


As Time Goes By...

by EllanaSan



Series: Ice Skating AU [2]
Category: Hunger Games Series - All Media Types, Hunger Games Trilogy - Suzanne Collins, The Hunger Games (Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, F/M, Fluff, a lot of it, figure skating AU, tag story to my fire and ice story, young hayffie
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-05-01
Updated: 2018-02-15
Packaged: 2018-06-05 16:23:56
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 18
Words: 58,856
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6712390
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/EllanaSan/pseuds/EllanaSan
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Snippets and cut off scenes for young hayffie in my Fire & Ice story (or as it is now known the ice skating au).</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Movie Night

**Author's Note:**

> So it seems when I’m trash, I’m trash haha! This will be a collection of short stories about young hayffie in “Fire and Ice” because I would have loved to write more about them and there are some things that didn’t make the final cut. And also because they’re cute and I’m trash. Did I mentioned I am trash? To make matters worse, @100years-to-live (who I blame for me free falling into the trash can) sent me a list of kisses prompt and it was so young hayffie in this au I could think of little else so here you now have it.
> 
> There will be a lot of fluff in there I’m afraid so I’m apologizing in advance for any overdose on sugar. In terms of updating I think it will publish on Sundays along Fire & Ice and maybe randomly when the mood takes. This is… If anyone wants to read this. I wouldn’t blame you if you didn’t, I’m aware I am kind of ice skating au obsessed. Hey, admitting you have a problem is the first step, I’m told ;)
> 
> First prompt is: wake up kisses pressed gently to the column of A’s neck or the underside of B’s jaw.

Really, he should have grown used to Effie falling asleep on him. It was how most of their movie nights – he refused to call them _date_ nights no matter what she said – ended: with her sprawled on him, the heavy woolen blankets tangled around her legs because she couldn’t stay still for five minutes, not even in her sleep.

He couldn’t quite fault her for falling asleep this time though since _he_ had chosen the movie. Admittedly _Independence Day_ hadn’t been his best pick. He carefully wriggled until they were lying on their sides, facing each other, with his back to the edge of the couch, and brushed his fingertips against her jaw.

“Wake up, Princess.”

She let out a low hum and tried to curl up, she stopped when her knees hit his thighs. She reached out instinctively, her fingers fisting his shirt. Since her eyes were close and she was completely out, he allowed himself a soft smile.

They could sleep here, he figured. He could arrange the blanket properly and put a cushion on the floor just in case he fell over during the night. He could let her get a rest she badly needed, they _both_ badly needed… Training had been getting harder lately, they seemed to be stuck. They had been looking for new ideas, new songs, new figures… Galas and events didn’t allow them a lot of free time and unlike him, Effie tended to spend entire nights awake worrying about them. She was particularly tired.

He glanced at the door. The corridor was dark and the house was silent. The staff had long gone to bed and he wasn’t really worried about them anyway but the idea of being discovered by Elindra… The dragon must have known what was going on. Mags certainly did. Of course, Elindra must have known… However they had been _very good_ at not getting caught until then and he would keep on that path if he could. It was honestly not worth the drama it would cause. He didn’t want to risk it. 

“Come on.” he whispered a little more firmly, brushing her jaw with his lips. She let out another hum of protest and pressed her face against the couch. It made him smirk. “Wake up, sweetheart.” he insisted in the same gentle voice, dropping kisses down her throat. She instinctively pressed her lips against his jaw in answer.

“I don’t want to have sex.” she mumbled sleepily.

“You don’t want to have sex?” he repeated, amused.

“No.” she groaned, snuggling closer to him.

“Well, that’s a great boost to my ego, sweetheart.” he mocked. “Good thing I just want you to wake up, I guess.”

“It’s too early.” she slurred, her eyes still closed and, he was sure, not truly awake.

“But we can’t stay on the couch.” he stated. “Come on. Let’s go to bed.”

She opened heavy eyelids, muffled a yawn against her forearm and pouted.

“Carry me.” she requested.

He rolled his eyes.

Really, he should have known _that_ would happen too. He lifted her up with ease, trying to remain irritated but fondly amused instead when she nuzzled his neck with her nose in thanks. She was back asleep before they even reached the first floor.

He wasn’t even surprised.


	2. Waking Up

* * *

 

**prompt: _morning kisses; gentle and lazy, humming in contentment, limbs still tangled together, hands wandering over soft exposed skin._ **

* * *

Effie opened her eyes a few minutes before the alarm clock started buzzing, her body long used to waking up at the same time every day. She strained her neck a little to get a glimpse of the sky through the window. The sun was barely starting to rise but it seemed like a clear day. They would go running on the path through the woods, she decided, Haymitch liked that better than the treadmills inside the gym. She had never told him it was harder on her knee and it was a secret she would keep.

She enjoyed the next five minutes, savoring the warm bed and the small weight of Haymitch's arm over her hip. She knew he was starting to wake up because he had tightened his hold and his thumb was drawing lazy circles on her stomach over the sheets.

When the clock buzzed, she reached out and switched it off before turning around in his arms. She smiled when she saw his grey eyes, still clouded by sleep, and leaned in to press her lips against his in a sweet kiss.

"Good morning." she whispered against his mouth.

She had worried about morning breath in the beginning but now… It was just part of their routine.

He responded to the kiss without any rush, almost lazy, keeping it soft and unhurried.

"Hi." he smirked eventually, his hand slipping under her nightgown to rest at the small of her back.

They kissed for a while, hands touching all the skin they could reach, until Effie drew back with a small wince. "We will be late."

"Let's be late." he suggested, leaning in again.

"Olympic Champions are _never_ late." she countered. "And we _do_ want to be Olympic Champions, don't we?"

He allowed her to escape his arms with a groan.

* * *

**prompt: _come back to bed kisses left on A's neck and shoulder, unhurried and tender, with arms wrapped around A's waist._ **

* * *

Haymitch woke up because of the cold.

He was used to it, truth be told, he had grown up in harsher weather and wasn't afraid of the icy cold that the Aspen mansion's fancy heaters were sometimes powerless to keep at bay. There was a fire roaring in the small fireplace in the corner of Effie's bedroom, keeping the temperature at an acceptable level.

It took him the few seconds necessary to wake up completely to realize it wasn't _him_ who was cold but the _bed_.

He outstretched a hand, felt around for the warm body that usually slept curled up against his chest, and found _nothing_ but cold sheets.

"Effie?" he called next, his voice rough from sleep, half sitting up.

"Go back to sleep." she whispered.

The lights were off but the fire casted enough of a glow that he finally spotted her standing next to the window. She was wrapped in a woolen shawl and was looking outside without seeming to see anything.

He kicked the blankets off his legs and joined her, automatically wrapping his arms around her. She leaned against his chest.

"I had a nightmare." she confessed, unprompted. "My knee… I couldn't…"

"Just a nightmare, sweetheart." he murmured in her neck, planting soft kisses on her shoulder, on either side of her nightgown's strap.

"You left me." she said flatly. "Like Seneca. You just…"

"Well, _that's_ never going to happen." he snorted. "It was just a nightmare, sweetheart. Come back to bed, you're safe with me."

That was what she always said after _he_ had a nightmare, coupled with some well-honed tricks designed to distract him but they were different people and he didn't think she wanted or needed sex at that moment.

He kept on pressing soft kisses on her neck, brushing her hair aside with his nose, nuzzling her skin only to kiss some more.

He felt her relent when she leaned her whole weight against him. She turned her head and he captured her lips.

"Never leave me." she pleaded.

"Never." he promised with a last peck, gently guiding her back to bed.


	3. The Happiest Place On Earth

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It’s Holycheekbones’ birthday! Happy Birthday! It will only be a few days before I join you on the wrong side of 25 so to celebrate our new old age, I gift you… The actual bottom of the trash can. Because lower than that I don’t think we can go. See? I’m gifting you with the way back to sanity.

“I don’t get what we’re doing here.” he grumbled as he handed his ticket to the smiling woman. Everyone was smiling in this place.

Effie was grinning like a maniac, almost jumping up and down in her enthusiasm as they were finally allowed in the park.

“I’ve _always_ dreamed of coming here every time I was in Paris. Mother would never take me and Seneca always thought it too childish.” she answered, looking around with a delighted face.

“No kidding.” he muttered.

They had two days left in Paris, spending one of them at _Disneyland_ hadn’t been in his projects. But Effie had begged, actually _begged_ , and had found very cunning ways of convincing him so he had ended up waking up at dawn to spend an hour on a train to end up here.

How long before he got fed up with the cheery music and the children running around? His only consolation was that it was the middle of the week and off school holidays, the park attendance ratio wasn’t as huge as he was ready to bet it would have been at another time.

“Come on.” Effie grabbed his hand and tugged him forward, _ooohing_ and _aaahing_ at everything.

“You’re a child.” he accused as they wandered on Main Street and it’s winter decorated shops. The crowd wasn’t huge but he was already resenting its presence.

Her smile and her good mood faltered a little. She looked down, licking her lips. “If you really didn’t want us to come, you should have said… I wouldn’t have forced you.”

Haymitch sighed, hating to feel guilty faced with her sad blue eyes and her disappointed pout. She was only twenty-one. He forgot sometimes. He wasn’t much older, true, but life had made him grow up faster. She, on the other hand, was still a sheltered child on a lot of points even though nobody had really ever grant her the opportunity to _act_ like a kid.

He wasn’t exactly surprised that the dragon had never taken her to an attraction park, it went without saying that her father would have been too busy, and her ex-boyfriend was a jackass.

She just wanted a nice day in the land of Mickey Mouse and he could grant her that. He could make her happy.

She made her lot of concessions for him after all. She agreed to go jogging in the woods more often than not just because he liked it better, she made an effort to go along with Chaff when _he_ was always unpleasant with her so-called friends, she always defended him when Elindra was a little too vocal in her disapproval…

He could do _this_ for her. It wasn’t much.

He rolled his eyes and resigned himself to suffer.

“Come on, sweetheart, don’t _pout_. I’m pretty sure that’s illegal in this place.” he sighed, letting go of her hand to wrap his arm around her shoulders.

She flashed him a bright grin and wrapped her own arm around his waist and off then went, strolling in the midst of tourists, bundled in their coats and scarves. She tried to hide her excitement faced with the huge castle and he tried not to shake his head at a behavior he couldn’t understand.

He _did_ chuckle when she dragged him to the dragon’s grotto.

“Your mom looks good.” he joked.

She whacked his arm in rebuke but she laughed when she thought he couldn’t hear it.

She was clearly over the moon with the whole park but Haymitch felt as if he had been dropped on another planet. Disney really wasn’t his scene. He had seen one or two movies, of course, but it became obvious really fast _she_ had grown up watching them.

“Let’s ride the tea cups.” she suggested, already pulling him in the waiting line.

“You’re serious?” he scoffed. “You drag me to Disneyland to ride _the tea cups?_ We could at least do the real stuff.”

“We will do _everything_.” she declared.

And she wasn’t kidding.

They rode the tea cups and they waited for hours in lines for rides that were designed for smaller kids, she almost threw up when they came out of _Space Mountain_ and she declared they needed a break. They walked around for a while, eating greasy food that he was sure she would beat herself up about on the train back to the hotel.

A little girl ran to them right as they entered the Far West area.

“ _Mademoiselle_ Trinket!” the child shrieked with enough awe and excitement in her voice that Haymitch didn’t need to understand the steady flow of French words spilling out from her lips to know what the child wanted. Effie answered in her flawless French and nodded her permission with a smile when the mother requested a picture. He waited, hands buried in the pockets of his coat, as she signed whatever the kid wanted signed, chatting with her all the while, sometimes laughing. He was a bit taken aback when the girl tossed the notebook at him, babbling in French.

“She wants you to sign it too.” Effie told him with obvious amusement. “She is very much a fan of me and you _are_ my new partner. She is sorry I am not skating with Seneca anymore but I told her you were a hundred times better. I didn’t say at _what_ though…”

He rolled his eyes at her but signed the paper and awkwardly patted the kid’s head.

Watching that girl, you would have thought she had met Mickey and Minnie Mouse.

She pulled her sunglasses from her purse and slipped them on despite the lack of sun once the girl was gone. It was an automatic move, he figured, a mask behind which to hide. She was famous in her field and she was used to being recognized and to sometimes end up on the glossy pages of gossip rags. She had warned him that was what awaited him too but so far aside for a few interviews unearthing his past, he was simply a collateral damage to her fame.

He would grant that to the park, there was no getting bored, fan of Disney or not.

Plus _Thunder Mountain_ was cool.

The parade now, he could have gone without but Effie was adamant she wanted the _full_ Disney experience.

“I am about to confess something that will make you laugh at me until the end of time.” she chuckled once the last float was gone and they had left the crowd behind. “I wanted to be a Disney princess when I was little.”

“I’m not surprised. You’re _ridiculous_.” he snorted.

“But you love me anyway.” she replied, her eyes twinkling with happiness.

Those words were still brand new and terrifying.

“If the shoe fits, Princess…” he smirked, pushing her against one of the lampposts boarding the street.

He wouldn’t have kissed her in public in the States but they were in Paris and he felt somehow… _freer_. His woolen scarf got caught between their chins and she tugged it out of the way with a giggle, pressing her lips back against his, very much deepening a kiss he had only intended as an innocent peck. His hands were on her hips, her arms were locked around his neck… Nothing in the whole world existed but _this_ , _them_.

“I don’t think we are allowed to kiss like this in front of children, Haymitch.” she whispered against his mouth, before capturing his lips again, very much grinning. She had been grinning all day. It was a good look on her. He liked seeing her happy. “We will get kicked out.”

“Can’t have that before the fireworks, sweetheart.” he chuckled.

She tightened her embrace and buried her face in his shoulder, between her arm and his neck, going on tiptoe to tighten her hold. His hands slid from her hips to the small of her back. He only had to pull a little to lift her up, it was a practiced move, and he didn’t even know why he did it other than he wanted to make her laugh again.

Children and parents were indeed looking with open curiosity and some disapproval, he scowled at them until they were left alone.

“I love you.” She said those words as if she had said them a thousand times before instead of once, as if she wasn’t afraid of them or of how true they were. She didn’t say them with conviction but as if she was simply stating a fact. He held her tight to fight his urge to run from it. She pressed a kiss against his cheek and drew back with a small smile. “Thank you for today. It was perfect.”

He just shrugged, ill-at-ease, simply content to have made her happy. It was all the thanks he needed. Soon they would be back in Aspen and Elindra would make their lives hell again. Her disdainful remarks had become harsher after Nationals and he _hated_ the way Effie simply bowed her head as if she deserved it. Every time she would hide behind fake smiles and private assurances that she was fine but the next day she would push herself harder in training and ignore the pain in her knee until she collapsed.

Paris was a welcome parenthesis.

On the train back to the hotel, he decided the trip to Disneyland had been worth it. Even if the car was full of children pumped on sugar and parents too tired to keep a proper eye on them. Even if Effie’s head had long landed on his shoulder and she was fast asleep, leaving him alone to bear the little monsters running around and shouting. Even if he was carrying two plastic bags full of stuffed animals, ridiculous objects and mugs they had no real use for.

And even if _It’s a small world after all_ was stuck in his head. 

As long as she was happy…

 

 


	4. Hello & Goodbye

* * *

 

**_stay in bed kisses, mischievous and deep, punctuating flirtatiously whispered bargaining words._ **

* * *

 

“Being away is no excuse to let ourselves go.” she argued, tilting her head despite her best resolves when his lips wandered down her neck. “There is a park right next to our hotel, we can…” He bit down and she gasped. “ _Haymitch_!”

He hadn’t hurt her. If she was certain of anything it was that Haymitch would _never_ hurt her. But she hadn’t been quite ready for _that_ …

The gala the night before had been a success and they had collapsed on the hotel bed too exhausted to do anything but sleep. They had woken up much in the same state but it hadn’t taken long for kisses to be exchanged and for his leg to push between hers. It had all been very lazy though, it hadn’t been… _purposeful_. He didn’t want to go training – like most mornings – and she was trying to convince him and…

He tugged on her thigh so she slid further down the bed and propped himself on his elbow, pinning her to the mattress with his hips. He didn’t even say anything – not that he needed to, she knew that spark in his eyes and she knew what it meant. It made her grin.

“We’re taking a day off.” he declared, not leaving room for argument, before kissing her. The kiss was messy and deep in all the right ways and his hips pressed against hers in a way that made her moan.

“It’s not serious.” she breathed out – and yet, she tangled her fingers in his hair and guided his head down again so they could keep on kissing. “Not serious at all.”

“We’re World Champions.” he reminded her.

She let that argument swayed her.

Truth be told, she wanted to be swayed.

* * *

 

**_rushed late for work kisses, a flash of heat before hurrying out the door._ **

* * *

 

Mags looked up with annoyance when Effie stepped inside the gym. Haymitch, on the other hand, looked relieved. Flexibility wasn’t his favorite training class.

“I am about to leave.” she said before Mags could ask her what she was _still_ doing on the estate when she was supposed to be giving an interview for _Elle_ in less than an hour. It was a very big deal and Effie had been over the moon about the whole thing for days but now that she was ready to go in her lovely newly purchased blue dress and smart white jacket, she found herself slightly nervous. _And_ running a little late, which wasn’t like her. “I just wanted to say goodbye before I left.”

“Goodbye.” Mags said pointedly and, when Effie and Haymitch kept staring at each other, she rolled her eyes. “You have _one_ minute, girl.”

Their trainer turned her back on them and walked to the stereo system, flicking through various CDs. Effie didn’t lose a second in approaching Haymitch – not daring to get _too_ close because he was already sweaty.

“Kick ass, Princess.” he smirked.

“Language.” she chided him before leaning in and pecking his lips for a long goodbye kiss she hadn’t thought about collecting before he had left her room that morning. “I will miss you.”

“I won’t.” he lied.

She didn’t linger because she was admittedly on a clock and because Mags was glowering in the background, muttering about wasted training time.

“You two are drama queens.” Effie heard Mags sigh to Haymitch once she had exited the gym. “She’ll be back for diner. No need to act like you’re separating for a decade.”

“Don’t know what you’re talking about.” Haymitch grumbled back.


	5. Ring Hunting

Haymitch hated New York.

It was too loud, too fast and too crowded.

As much as he hated living in the mansion when Elindra was _in residence_ , he couldn’t deny he liked Aspen better despite the numerous tourists. The Trinket estate was surrounded by enough wilderness that he didn’t feel trapped in a metal jungle of building, pollution and hysterical people.

Time Square was _the worst_.

He was sitting outside the Starbucks, a tall paper cup of coffee held tight in both of his leather gloved hands in a desperate attempt at warming them, and he watched people walk by. It wasn’t difficult to differentiate New Yorkers from tourists. Tourists stopped every three steps to take pictures while New Yorkers rushed as if the devil was chasing them. 

Someone clapped his shoulder and Haymitch felt the strength of the hit right down to his bone through the thick wool of his coat. He glared at his friend with annoyance but couldn’t help a small smile when Chaff dropped on the free chair on the opposite side of the table. At least, it was cold enough that not a lot of people were sitting outside. 

Haymitch pushed the second cup of coffee he had bought in his direction. The Starbucks was packed and there was no time to wait in line for Chaff’s order. They were on a clock here – not that his best friend knew that yet.

“Where’s your other half?” Chaff asked as a greeting, straining his neck to glance inside the shop.

“Shopping somewhere with some of the other girls.” he shrugged. He thought Enobaria had tagged along and _that_ promised for some fun – and probably irritated – anecdotes later that night. As well as some modeling, she liked to show him everything she bought even if he could never care less. Although… She had also promised to hit _Victoria’s secrets_ and _that_ could be fun.

Chaff’s eyebrows shot up before furrowing together. He leaned a little over the table not to have to shout to be heard. “There’s no trouble brewing with your girl, right?”

Haymitch rolled his eyes. “We’re not joined at the hips every second of the day.”

Chaff flashed him a slightly mocking smile and took a sip of his coffee, relaxing back in his chair. “You kind of are. Can’t remember the last time I saw you _alone._ ” It was rare enough for the two of them to be in the same place at the same time nowadays. Chaff’s hockey team was moving around and so were Haymitch and Effie. His best friend took another sip and studied him. “I’m surprised she doesn’t have you locked up somewhere so you can train until exhaustion. Japan’s not too far away, right?”

Japan was right around the corner.

They had been in New York the whole week for an exceptional series of galas with the cream of what the international figure skating scene had to offer. The mood had been relaxed enough but the competitive strike had still been there. Worlds weren’t too far behind yet and the Winter Games were too close for it to be otherwise. Haymitch and Effie were friendly with some of the others pairs but not friendly enough to lower their guards.

“We trained this morning.” he admitted. “I asked Mags for an afternoon off.” He had _begged_ Mags for a day off, more like. Effie was driven to the point of hysterics lately, they would have trained from dawn to mid-night barely pausing long enough to perform in the galas if they had listened to her. Mags tempered her but not by much. “I’ve got to be back for six o’clock, the show starts at eight so… We need to get a move on.”

Chaff frowned. “’Cause we have somewhere to be?”

“Yeah. Kinda.” He turned the cup around in his hands, toying with the card ring if only to keep his fingers busy. He kept his eyes riveted on the mermaid logo. He didn’t know why he was nervous. He had known Chaff for a decade, they had started hockey together, they had been _kids_ together. It wasn’t like his friend was going to throw him under the buss. “Look, you’ve got to help me out.”

“Sounds serious, buddy.” Chaff commented, bringing the cup to his lips. “You didn’t get yourself in trouble or some _shit_ , right?” Haymitch finished his coffee in one long mouthful and stood up, tossing it in a bin and burying his hands in his pockets. Chaff stood up too, his face growing grimmer. “Okay, Haymitch. What do you need?”

There was no question Chaff would have done everything Haymitch required. He started walking, a little startled and amused to think his friend was imagining a whole story out of nothing.

“I’m not asking you to help me beat up some mafia guys.” he snorted. “You can chill.”

“That’s a relief.” Chaff chuckled, as they lost themselves in the New York flow. “I guess. So… What’s up?”

Haymitch remained silent for a few more minutes, trying to find out _how_ to say it. He settled for “We need to find a ring.”

Chaff actually stopped walking.

Haymitch didn’t. He made a face and pushed on, feeling embarrassed for no good reason. He knew the tips of his ears were bright red and he couldn’t blame the cold.

“Alright.” his friend said, catching up. “I’m going to ask once… You’re sure?” Haymitch glared and Chaff lifted his hands. “ _Shit_ , Haymitch, someone _has_ to ask.”

“I’m _fucking_ sure.” he mumbled. “You’re gonna help or what?”

“Have to, right?” Chaff laughed suddenly, clasping his shoulder and shaking it in his enthusiasm. “Best man’s duties and everything. I _am_ the best man, right?”

“ _Nah_ , I’m gonna ask one of my other friends ‘cause I’ve got _so many_ of those.” he retorted, rolling his eyes.

Chaff wouldn’t let go of his shoulder. He was grinning like a fool. “I _knew_ you would marry that girl. You know _when_ I knew? That time at the bar, after the hockey game. Man, I’ve _never_ seen you look at a girl like that. And she’s loaded. Doesn’t hurt.”

“I don’t care about that.” he grumbled.

“’Course you don’t.” his friend chuckled. “That’s ‘cause you’re _in love_.”

“You’re done?” he scowled. “Should have gone alone…”

“No way I’m missing this, buddy.” Chaff snickered. “Haymitch Abernathy ring hunting. _No way_ I’m missing this.”

Another thing Haymitch hated in New York? _The time it took to get a_ fucking _cab._ By the time they had found one, people had stopped Haymitch twice to ask for pictures and autographs. He ignored Chaff’s taunting about him being famous, put on the huge sunglasses that Effie made him carry everywhere and hoped it would be enough that people wouldn’t glance at him twice. _That_ was something he didn’t quite enjoy about being twice World Champions: there were _always_ people who knew who they were and they attracted the attention of _other_ people who didn’t _quite_ know who they were but who didn’t want to miss out on meeting someone famous enough to sign papers and take picture with in the street.

Their first stop was _Cartier_ and Chaff let out a long whistling sound. “Well, your paycheck is well above mine.”

“Effie likes her _shit_ expensive.” he shrugged, pushing his sunglasses on his head.

He wasn’t worried about the money, they were making a comfortable income and her father might have been more often on business trips than at home but he had stressed enough times the importance of _investing_ that Haymitch had listened and he was making some profits with that. He had won enough money in the last two years to be financially stable for _a while_. It wasn’t just the galas and the sponsoring, it was also the astonishing amounts some people were ready to pay to have them on their show or in their magazines.

“So what are we looking for?” Chaff asked, once inside, looking at the jewels on display with an unimpressed twitch of his lips. “We’re going for huge and shiny?”

Haymitch shook his head. “It needs to be practical so she doesn’t have to take it off every day to practice. So… There should be a diamond but… Mostly flat. And I want _gold_ not white gold.”

He had a good idea of what he wanted although nothing definite.

“You really thought about this.” his friend commented and he sounded almost impressed.

He had been thinking about this for a while truth be told, longer than when the subject had popped up a couple of months earlier. He wasn’t the marrying type, not really… A year earlier, he wouldn’t have seen himself doing this no matter how far gone for her he was. But now? Now he was certain she was _it_.

She had _ruined_ him for other women.

“I’m gonna ask her after the Games.” he said, looking at a display of engagement rings and not spotting a single one that fitted his selection criterion.

“Once you’re both Olympic champions.” Chaff teased. “Yeah, I’ve heard _all_ about that from your girl last time. She described her brand new display case in _details_.”

“Win or lose.” he shrugged. “I’m asking her to marry me. _Win or lose_.”

Best case scenario it would only add to the happiness. Worst case it would still make it a happy day.

It was the perfect plan as far as he was concerned.

“It’s romantic.” his friend granted. “She’s gonna like it.”

“Yeah.” he agreed.

There was a polite coughing sound and a middle-aged man in a tailored suit was suddenly wedging his way between them. “May I help you, sirs?” The man looked bored and almost disdainful – and Haymitch figured neither he nor Chaff looked like the rich snobs who shopped in that store – until he took a good look at Haymitch’s face. “ _Oh_. Oh, Mr Abernathy, it is a _pleasure_ to have you here. May I ask…” The man’s eyes darted to the display window they had been looking at and understanding dawned on his face. “Oh, engagement rings! How _fabulous_. I am sure we could find something Miss Trinket would like. I mean… If she is the one, of course.”

Another thing he didn’t quite like about being twice World Champions: people speculating about his and Effie’s relationship. _All_ _the_ fucking _time_. Truth be told, they fed the ambiguity on purpose. It kept them interesting and it kept money coming but _really_ … They had virtually no privacy. Paparazzi were often waiting for an opportunity to take a compromising picture or to take an innocent one out of context, inventing them feuds, fights or torrid affairs every two weeks. Gossip rags dedicated entire pages to them, sometimes going as far as speculating about their sex life – his favorite article about that so far was _Is It Fire Or Is It Ice In The Bedroom_ ; so clever.

Everyone in the ice dance field had more or less figured out their denials were for show only – it was probably the safest place to lower the guard, they weren’t the only couple out there secretly dating, there was no outing people behind their backs, there was _a code_. They weren’t as careful about their relationship as they used to be either. Hiding was becoming tiring. They were young. He was twenty five, she was twenty three… He wasn’t big on public displays but he liked wrapping his arm around her shoulders in a way that didn’t _always_ look friendly, he liked kissing her when he wanted to without wondering if someone was going to catch them and if it would become a PR frenzy Mags would blame him for, he liked the thought of saying _I’m hers, she’s mine, paws off…_

“It’s for me actually, man.” Chaff said before the guy could go on. “And I’m not marrying Effie before you ask.”

“I see.” The man looked almost disappointed. “Well, if you tell me what you are looking for and which range of prices…”

“What a _douche_.” Chaff scoffed as soon as they were out of the shop – without a ring but _annoyed_. 

“Still not as bad as Effie’s mother.” he snorted. He had grown used to rich people looking down at him. He was immune now.

“The dragon’s going to be your mother-in-law.” his friend pointed out, clearly finding the whole thing _hilarious_.

“Yeah. That will go well.” His face darkened. He already knew Elindra would know no peace until she had broken them up once she would learn about their engagement. He also suspected there would a huge showdown and that it would be a battle Effie would have to fight for herself. He wasn’t scared of what she would choose, she had proven enough times she was willing to choose him over her mother but he knew it would hurt her and _that_ he would have gladly done without.

“I can’t believe you’re going to get married.” his best friend said. “Three years ago…”

“Yeah.” he cut him off. He didn’t want to think about _before_. There had been grief and pain and struggle… And he was still dealing with everything even now but it was easier, _better_. And it was in huge parts thanks to Effie’s constant presence. She brought joy in his life no matter how much he fought it. She was too bright, too lively and too determined for him to spend all his time in darkness like he used to.

“She’s really good for you.” Chaff sincerely offered. “At first I thought… Yeah, I was scared she was just in it for the thrill, you know? The bad boy vibes and the rich Daddy’s girl’s rebellion but… Last summer at the beach… She’s _good_ for you. And you’re good for her, I guess.”

Haymitch shrugged, uncomfortable with talking about his feelings.

But that was the truth. They _were_ good for each other. Together, they were _unstoppable_. He couldn’t imagine a future she didn’t feature in.

He wasn’t much for hope and faith but she had restored his belief in happiness because she _was_   making him happy even when she was infuriating him, even when he was so fed up with her he shouted at the top of his lungs, even when they glared at each other and refused to cave first and _talk_ … He knew she wouldn’t leave, he knew the storm would pass and they would make up and be ridiculously unable to keep their hands off each other for the next few days. He was happy with her.

And that was why he had no doubt in his heart about this.

They would get married and they would go on being champions and they would be _happy_.

“Let’s go find her a ring.”

 

 


	6. Simple Pleasures

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Today is a good day and a good day calls for trash.

* * *

**_tender kisses when one brings home flowers for the other._ **

* * *

 

Haymitch always felt a little high right after they had finished a performance. The cheers of the crowd, the rush of adrenaline… As they took their bows, he always felt ready to take on the world.

They thanked the audience a last time and Effie briefly hugged him again because they had been _flawless_ and it would take a miracle for anyone else to steal the lead from them now. They had won, they knew it, everyone backstage who was watching knew it and it felt _good_.

She flashed him a smile and glided in Mags’ direction, pulling him by the hand. He was slower than she was and their fingers untangled. She shot him an inquisitive look but he was already bending to snatch a flower from the ice, beating to it one of the little girls tasked with the mission of picking up fans’ gifts.

Effie was still on the ice when he caught up and circled around her to hand her the red rose. She rolled her eyes at him but smiled all the same. He went on gliding backward until his back hit the rink wall, a smirk firmly on his lips.

He knew everyone in the stadium had their eyes on them but he didn’t even care.

It had been a good day.

They had won – or would win very shortly in any case.

He was happy.

He expected her to go around him and to the door but she glided straight to him, slowing down just enough that their collision was soft. She placed a hand on his shoulder and raised on the tip of her skate to press a kiss on his cheek. It lingered a little more than a friendly peck warranted and he read between the lines of sweet pleasures to come.

* * *

 

**_sticky ice cream kisses, sitting on a bench in the park and laughing against each other’s lips._ **

* * *

 

“I will be too heavy for you to lift by the end of this trip.” Effie laughed, taking a bite of her strawberry ice-cream cone. It froze her teeth but that was how she liked ice-cream.

Haymitch, on the other hand, was making a show of licking his vanilla one while tossing her obscene looks that only succeeded in making her laugh at him. She would have scolded him if they hadn’t been walking on a deserted part of the beach.

She thought this was paradise.

Taking a stroll on the beach with him, the waves licking at their feet, eating ice cream, holding hands… They had needed holydays so badly she was dreading going back to Aspen and the mansion where they could never really be _alone_.

“Lucky for you I’m pretty strong.” he snorted. “And you could use some curves.”

“ _Shocking_!” she gasped, still laughing. “Are you saying I am less than perfect? You _are_ lucky I am in a good mood.” 

“Nobody’s perfect, sweetheart.” he smirked. “Not even you.”

Her smile faltered a little because even though she knew he was joking – mostly – it hit a little too close to home. They walked in silence for a few moment. He didn’t seem to notice any change in her, he ate his ice-cream and they eventually sat down to watch the ocean while she finished hers.

After a while, he grew bored with that and tried to steal it from her.

They struggled for it.

She wasn’t sure how she ended up on her back in the hot sand but, surely enough, the strawberry ice-cream ended up in a heap next to her head and _he_ ended up on top of her. The kisses were messy, their faces were sticky from chin to nose and she ended up laughing again before long because they were supposed to be _adults_ and there they went again, unable to do anything as casual as taking a stroll without ending up with their tongue down each other’s throat.

 It was _ridiculous_ how in love she was.

 


	7. Lipstick Stains

* * *

 

**_cheek kisses that leave red lipstick stains._ **

* * *

 

“Do we have to go?” he grumbled, sprawled on his back on her bed.

“Don’t be whiney, Haymitch.” she answered from the walk-in cupboard en-suited to her room. “The party is _here_ , at least. We won’t have to ride there and back, that is always a plus.” She walked back in the room wearing a short white cocktail dress that was hanging open at her back, lips pursed. “Sit properly, you will crease your suit.”

He sighed and sat up, muttering under his breath about the dragon and her _fucking_ parties. He _hated_ those. Half of the people always sneered down at _the hockey player_ and the other tried to grope him – or worse, tried to grope _her_.

She stepped between his legs and turned her back on him. He stood up and zipped her dress up wordlessly, pressing kisses along her spine as he went until he reached her nape. Her hair was tied up in a fancy bun and he took full advantage of it.

“Let’s pretend we’re sick.” he suggested, toying with the claps of her heavy gold necklace.

“There will be sponsors to this party.” she declared, escaping the hands he placed on her waist.

He flopped back down on her bed while she went to her dressing table and rummaged around her jewelry box for matching earrings.

“ _Pity_ party more like.” he scoffed. “Real parties don’t have classical music, old people and waiters carrying crumbs on trays.”

“Those are _petit fours_.” she chuckled.

“I love it when you talk dirty to me.” he smirked, propping himself on his elbows to watch her.

He didn’t have a lot of kinks but he had discovered in France that Effie speaking French was an immediate turn on. She used and abused that knowledge regularly enough.

“ _Je_ _pourrais te lire l’annuaire, tu ne saurais pas ce que je dis_.” she replied with a grin, watching him while she put on her golden earrings.

He had no idea what she had just said but he found it hot all the same. She had tried to teach him some but he wasn’t interested in learning. He just liked the foreign sounds coming from her mouth, the way her posh accent wrapped around the words.

“Now, you’re trying to get me hard.” he taunted.

“I am not responsible for your dirty mind.” She shook her head and outstretched her hands. “Up, Haymitch. We need to get downstairs before Mother sends a search party.”

“You could be having sex with me and you want to go to some stupid party.” he sighed. “I’m hurt.”

He grabbed her hands anyway and let her pull him to his feet.

“You will live.” she teased, pressing a kiss on his cheek before rubbing the spot with her thumb to erase the red stain of lipstick.


	8. Sweet Dreams Are Made Of This

Mags was watching tapes in the second living-room and taking notes when Haymitch walked in, a frown on his face.

“Hey.” he greeted his trainer distractedly. “Have you seen Effie? I can’t find her.”

And, yeah, the house was huge but not _that_ huge that he couldn’t track her down. He was already wearing the sweatpants and the frayed shirt he used at night. When he had hung up after an hour long call with Chaff – they didn’t have time to call each other often so there was some catching up to do – he had thought he would find her in bed because it was around their usual bedtime – and, yeah, it was _sad_ they had bedtimes at twenty-one and twenty-three but it was either going to bed early- _ish_ or dying in training. Effie’s absence was puzzling.

True, they didn’t _always_ share a bed although since Paris he didn’t think they had slept apart more than two or three times but almost all his stuff was in her room and he rarely used his anymore and it wasn’t like her to simply _not be there_.

“I think she went back to the rink.” Mags offered, putting the tape on pause.

“ _Now_?” he frowned, his eyes darting to the designer clock on the wall. It was close to ten thirty.

“She had a _chat_ with her mother.” their coach sighed.

Haymitch’s jaw clenched and he gave her a brisk nod to let her know she didn’t need to say any more.

Every since they had ranked third at Nationals, Elindra’s demeaning comments and not so subtle mocking remarks had increased. Third wasn’t _so_ bad for their first competition in Haymitch’s opinion and that still allowed them to go to Switzerland as stand-ins… It wasn’t _winning_ but it wasn’t _losing_ either. And they _had_ won every other competition they had attended since.

What had happened during their free program at Nationals had been unfortunate but it didn’t mean it was the end of their careers.

He left Mags to her watching and put on his boots, tucking his sweatpants inside because it was freezing outside at this time of night. He put on his coat, scarf and gloves and wandered on the icy path to the rink. Every freezing breath was like a stab to the lungs and a white puff hovered in front of his mouth every time he breathed out.

The lights weren’t on in the rink but he could hear the music booming out from feet away. _Sweet Dreams_ assaulted his ears when he pushed the door to the rink and his entrance went unnoticed. He remained in the shadows for a while, simply watching.

Effie was on the ice. Improvising, he thought, but _fuck it_ if she wasn’t _glorious_. He would never have been able to appreciate it as much a year before, when he had known nothing about figure skating. Now he could see the lines, the balance, the energy…

She was lost to the music, a tad on the reckless side of it. Her jumps were high and blunt, her turns were fast and unrestrained… She had this _charisma_ that made it impossible to look away when she was dancing…

It was obvious to him she was upset. Her moves weren’t as precise as during rehearsals, she attacked her jumps too strong and she wasn’t careful enough on landing. More than once he held his breath, thinking her knee would give in.

She didn’t fall though.

The music eventually died down and she remained standing there, panting hard. She pushed her hair away from her eyes and licked her lips.

She knew he was there. He knew she knew, they had developed this sixth sense concerning the other, but he waited until he was sure he was welcomed before wandering on the ice, careful not to slip.

She didn’t quite react when he wrapped his arms around her but she melt against his chest all the same. He didn’t ask what was wrong and she didn’t volunteer any information. Talking about Elindra often ended in fights and it wasn’t what she needed at that moment.

So he held her and he hoped it was enough.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The vid that inspired this is Ashley Wagner's "Sweet Dreams" performance at "All that skate" in 2013. You can find on my tumblr or on you tube.
> 
> I hope you liked it! Let me know!


	9. Switzerland's Bathtubs

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ok I promised to write the Switzerland bathroom scene so I wrote it haha! Beware for unashamed (bad) smut.

Effie closed the hotel door softly behind her, after a last goodbye wave of the hand for Enobaria whom she had met by chance in the corridor on her way back to her room. She was eager for some solitude. The whole world had gone mad as soon as the gold medals had been placed around their necks. There are been interviews to give, hands to shake, congratulations to accept, congratulations to offer to other skaters, pictures to take, flowers to graciously take and then pass to the closest staff member, posters to sign… _Utter madness_. She had been on her feet for _hours_.

But they were _World Champions_ …

The thought brought a smile to her lips and a spring to her steps.

The living-room part of the suite was empty so she went straight to the bedroom, automatically stepping over the bags her partner had dropped in the way without care as usual. Her smile widened when she caught sight of him, sprawled eagle style on the bed, his big toe pocking out of the right black sock… _This man was ridiculous and yet…_

“Are you asleep?” she hummed, kicking off her heels, her hands flying to her hair to take out the pins. She winced when her fingers brushed the sticky mess the hairspray had done. “Enobaria’s coach heard from Viola’s. Her shoulder _is_ dislocated and she might have a small concussion. They are out for the rest of the season, it seems.”

Haymitch had made his escape when she had stopped to talk to the other American skater. He didn’t have much love for Enobaria but, to be fair, they didn’t have any real chance to get to know each other outside of competitions. Everything was enhanced when they were competing. Effie had skated with her and Brutus during some galas and events where the mood was a lot lighter and while she wouldn’t say they were _friends_ , they certainly were not _enemies_ – not like her and Viola in any case. 

“I’m _beaten_.” he sighed, opening his eyelids with obvious difficulty. “And Mags says there’s more of _this_ tomorrow?”

He had always hated the _celebrity_ that went hand in hand with figure skating and while he had done a good job at answering questions and dodging when he ought to, she knew he hadn’t had much fun that evening.

“Probably after the Closing Gala Exhibition, yes.” she hummed. “And we will be invited on several sports shows and we _will_ have to talk to more reporters. I imagine Caesar Flickerman will want us as soon as possible.”

He rolled his eyes. “ _Great_. Did I say that I’m _beaten_?”

_He’s a big baby_ , she decided but she kept that thought silent.

“And here I thought you would have drawn us a bath…” she hummed innocently, tousling her hair.

He lifted his head to look at her, a spark of interest in his eyes despite the obvious exhaustion on his face. “Seriously? _Now_?”

She licked her lips, slowly unzipping her dress and letting it pool at her feet. She stepped aside from the heap of fabric and headed to the bathroom, aware that his gaze was tracking her every move. The bathtub was _huge_ – _thank you, Switzerland_ – and she had been struggling with obscene thoughts ever since she had first seen it.

She reached behind her back to unclasp her bra and found clever fingers already there. She smirked at him in the mirror over the sink and he smirked back before lowering his mouth to her shoulder, dropping kisses up and down her neck. Her bra was tossed aside, his hands covering her breasts, kneading and caressing in turns.

His lips found her nape and slowly made their way down her spine. Her panties were pulled down without ceremony and she braced herself on the sink when he kneeled behind her, nudging her legs apart.

His mouth was hot and his tongue was clever.

She slumped over the sink long before he actually finished her.

Her legs were shaky and she let him support most of her weight when he pulled her upright to kiss her. His pants were tight and she playfully bit on his jaw as she started unbuttoning his shirt. He took a hint and helped her get rid of his clothes, barely groaning in protest when she stopped kissing to nudge him toward the tub.

“Just an idea, sweetheart, but maybe we should fill it first.” he mocked.

“Sit down.” she ordered.

“Or what?” he challenged, a bit annoyed at her commanding tone.

She lifted her eyebrows, silently promising he would miss out on the fun if he didn’t do as she said. He rolled his eyes but sit down in the empty bathtub, propping himself against a wall. It was big enough to fit at least three people and she had no trouble settling in front of him. She tinkered with the taps for a moment, making sure the water wouldn’t be too hot and quickly calculating how long it would take to fill the tub. A while, probably. Enough time.

“What are you planning?” he frowned, more amused than worried.

He got his response when she coiled her hand around him and bowed down to give him a slow lick. He hissed in pleasure, his head rolling back, his hand automatically tangling in her hair.

With the water level slowly rising around them, it was a race. And it was _thrilling_.

He came long before the water reached his hips and she settled between his legs, with her back against his chest, absolutely satisfied with the faraway look on his face.

“I want more.” he warned but his voice sounded sleepy. “Give me a minute and you’ll see, sweetheart.”

She turned her head and pressed a soft kiss against the side of his neck. “We have time. Get some rest.”

They still needed to skate the next day. Mags would kill them if they weren’t at their best.

When the water reached her chin, she turned the tap off and simply relaxed. The hot water did wonders for her aching muscles and the hands Haymitch was distractedly roaming on her body were slowly turning her to mush.

She startled a little when one of them slipped between her legs because she had thought he had fallen asleep and she wasn’t far from drifting off herself.

“Easy, sweetheart.” he hummed against her neck, his fingers becoming purposeful as they pressed and caressed. “I’ve got you…”

She slid forward a little, reaching behind her back for him, matching the pace of his strokes with her own hand. Soon she was trembling and he was hard again under her fingers. She lifted herself on her knees to straddle him…

“Turn around.” he requested. “I want to see you.”

She did as she was told. It required some shifting but they eventually settled down with her legs around his waist, her back mostly supported by his legs bent at the knees, her arms wrapped around his neck, one of his hand on her ass and the other on her breast…

The pace was fast, almost punishing and she tossed her head back until he tangled his fingers in her hair and drew her in a searing kiss.

She came hard.

He kept a steady stream of curses until he reached his peak.

She didn’t call him up on his language for once.

“We’re World Champions.” she whispered in his ear, like a secret. “We’re World Champions and _I_ _love you_. Thank you for this. Thank you for taking a chance in me.”

“Isn’t that my line?” he snorted, kissing her shoulder. “ _You_ brought us here.”

“No.” She shook her head. “I couldn’t have done it without you.”

“Good thing we’re a team then, sweetheart.” he declared in a tone that would suffer no argument.

_Good thing indeed,_ she thought.

 


	10. Waiting

* * *

 

**_kisses absently left on the backs of hands, fingers entwined in silent comfort._ **

* * *

 

“It’s going to be okay.”

She blinked and came back to the present, turning her head in Haymitch’s direction when he squeezed her fingers. Hospitals weren’t her favorite place to be. She smoothed her skirt with her free hand and glanced at her watch, wondering how long it would be before they called her. She had an appointment but scanners and MRI appointments never happened on the dot.

“It is just a control check MRI.” she answered calmly, more calmly than she felt. “I am only doing this because Mags insisted. Whatever they say I will still skate and we will still win.”

Her knee wasn’t swollen that day. Perhaps it would go well – or at least, not too bad.

“Nobody said anything about quitting, Effie.” he sighed. “Just… There’s nothing wrong with taking care of yourself. If you need meds or…”

“I don’t need medication.” she hissed. “I am _fine_.”

She averted her eyes, her jaw clenched in irritation. Or maybe it was _fear_. Her surgery had been a difficult time for her, she refused to live through that again. She knew what the doctor would say when he would her MRI. He would say she needed to put her skates away if she didn’t want to need a knee replacement when she would hit fifty.

“Sure you are.” he snorted. “That’s why you’ve been crying in the shower every night for the last week. ‘Cause you’re fine.”

She didn’t ask how he knew about that.

“I can work through the pain.” she retorted.

“Yeah, you _can_. Doesn’t mean you _have_ to.” he objected. “Look, I’m not saying _quit_. I’m not even saying take a break ‘cause you’ll want my balls on a plate if we fall behind but… For _fuck_ ’s sake, Princess, if you need stronger painkillers, _take_ _them_.”

She pursed her lips, staring at the tile floor. Stronger pain medication made her drowsy, moody and would impact on their training. She couldn’t afford it. _They_ couldn’t afford it.

“Nobody thought I could ever put skates back on.” she said slowly. “Never mind doing anything _worthwhile_ on them…”

“We’re going to win and they’re all going to shut their big mouths.” he promised, entwining their fingers and lifting their clasped hands to his lips. “But we can do that and make sure you don’t bust your knee again in the process, sweetheart.”

She breathed out slowly, gradually getting her fear back under control.

When he said things like that, she believed him


	11. Post-Training Shenanigans

* * *

**_joyful kisses peppered across foreheads and cheeks between scattered giggles._ **

* * *

 

“What are you doing?” Effie hummed as she stepped in the living-room, stretching her arms over her head as she went. A warm shower had gone a long way into helping her sore muscles to relax and she felt a little more human – not a given after that long day of training.

Haymitch was sprawled on his back on the couch and tossed her an incredulous glance over the rim of his book.

“What does it look like?” he scoffed. “You need glasses?”

She had learned not to take his rebukes and sarcasm to heart. She managed better on some days than others.

She placed a knee on the couch and grabbed the armrest to pass her other leg over his hips, forcing the book down with her chest. He tossed her an annoyed look but his lips were twitching, they kept twitching when she rocked her hips a little.

“You’re in a mood.” he snorted. “Should have said. I would have showered with you.”

She didn’t answer that, preferring to drop slow purposeful kisses on his jaw and neck. He wrapped an arm around her but otherwise paid her no attention, his eyes riveted on the book in his hand he was holding away from her. She reached out to knock it out but he avoided her swat.

“This is _insulting_.” she commented, grabbing his head in her hands and holding it firmly in place while she peppered kisses all over his face only to annoy him. “Why aren’t you all over me yet?”

She shrieked when he rolled them over and then she started to laugh.

“Careful what you wish for, sweetheart.” he smirked, pressing quick itchy kisses on her cheeks and forehead, his fingers tickling her sides and making her laugh without mercy.

“I _hate_ you!” she claimed between two heavy giggles.

“No, you don’t.” he chuckled.

She _really_ didn’t. 

 


	12. Fire & Ice

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Nothing new here but I decided to put all the flashback parts of Fire and Ice in order and in one place for people who might like to read them in the correct order (here’s to hoping I didn’t made any mistake ;) ) So… Enjoy!

_“Effie.”_

_She landed on her right leg and it crumbled under her weight, sending her skidding on the ice. She immediately stood up, pretending Mags had simply startled her. She winced when she realized her trainer wasn’t alone and she skated closer to the edge of the rink where her coach and the man were waiting, schooling her feature into delighted surprise and ignoring the pain in her knee. She also pretended she didn’t notice the worried look Mags shot at her leg._

_“Mr Heavensbee!” she exclaimed, her fake smile becoming a little more genuine._

_As far as federation officials went, she liked Plutarch Heavensbee well enough._

_“Miss Trinket.” he nodded with his usual cheer. “I was on my way to visit your mother and I thought a little detour was in order. I was just asking Mrs Cohen how your knee was holding up…”_

_“My knee is perfectly healed, thank you.” she answered in a clipped tone. Her fake laugh boomed in the room, reverberating against the wall of the private skating rink. “I am afraid they declared me dead a little too early.”_

_The press certainly had a field day with her injuries. The pictures had been plastered on the front of sports magazines for weeks until some reporter had decided she was done with professional skating and everyone had agreed wholeheartedly. Sponsors had pulled out, leaving her to rely on her family’s fortune rather than her own money – which she hated._

_“Will you be coming back next season then?” Plutarch inquired politely._

_“We are exploring our avenues.” Mags intervened._

_“I fully intend to compete next season.” Effie countered, stubborn on that account._

_Her mother was against it, naturally, insisting Effie would simply hurt her career further. Without Seneca, she was nothing, Elindra insisted – and Elindra had two Olympic gold medals to boost so she would know. She and Seneca had been training together since they were ten. She had never had another partner. Had it been the other way around, had Seneca been the one to injure himself, she would have liked to think she would have waited for him to heal before taking off to find another partner less than three weeks later – all the more so_ Viola Summercket _who had always been her greatest rival._

_Effie’s only consolation was that she had sent him packing with the engagement ring he had had the nerves to pop out at the last moment. She was still angry about that. What had he been thinking? Lose a partner, win a husband? Effie had dreams, big dreams, and if Seneca wasn’t in it for everything then he wouldn’t feature in it at all. And it didn’t matter that her mother disapproved, that she thought Effie had been stupid or that her Olympic dream had always been a chimera and that she should have taken what she could: Seneca had, after all, a promising career ahead of him and a huge bank account._

_Still, it had been hard to part with Seneca professionally as well as privately – almost harder than missing a jump and crumpling on the ice, her right knee completely busted for everyone to see._

_“We are auditioning new partners.” Mags tempered, calm as always. “If we miss a season, it won’t be the end of the world.”_

_What she truly meant was that they were_ desperately _looking for someone who would accept to skate with her. She was rumored finished. No one worth it was willing to take the chance._

_“I see.” Plutarch said in a knowing tone that immediately gritted on her nerves. Who knew what everyone was saying at the federation? She was a national champion, people always had things to say about that. “Well, I wouldn’t dare keep Elindra waiting.” He winked at her as if it was a good joke, as if her mother’s dragon-like tendencies were funny. Perhaps it was to someone who didn’t have to share a house with her – and it didn’t help that the house and the estate were huge; somehow, there was never anywhere far enough to escape Elindra Trinket. “_ Do _let me know if I can do anything for you, Miss Trinket.”_

_“Thank you_. _Have a nice day, Mr Heavensbee.” she replied politely – because she had manners._

_She skated away, considering the conversation over on her end. She went back to the center of the rink and made a point of making a double loop jump, almost sighting in relief when her leg held on landing. She went on with her pointless solo training, trying to learn how to compensate for her weak knee. She could feel his eyes riveted on her._

_“I will keep an eye out for a suitable partner.” he told Mags, low enough that Effie supposed she wasn’t meant to hear. “If I can find someone, I will let you know. It would truly be a shame.”_

_“Thank you, Plutarch.” Mags smiled. “I would appreciate the help.”_

_Effie_ didn’t _appreciate the help but they were grasping at straws._

_“You know…” she said once he had left the private training building to trek the long path leading back to the mansion. “I could always go into solo skating.”_

_It was a joke and they both knew it. You didn’t train your whole life for something and then switch career like that. Effie knew how to skate with someone – with Seneca – and that was it. And she was terrified it_ would _be it._

_Mags shook her head at her with a fond smile. “Watch that leg when you land, girl.”_

_She jumped again in answer. Her knee tinged but held and she did it again and again, determined to nail the move just as well as she had done before her injury._

_“Perhaps Plutarch Heavensbee will pull out a miracle.” she chuckled after a while. “Perhaps he will find me a partner who will give me my Gold.”_

_“Stranger things have happened, girl.” Mags smiled. “Stranger things have happened…”_

 

°o°

_“What the fuck are we doing here?” he grumbled as his best friend and former teammate more or less dragged him inside the building and down to the ice rink. The safety glass was in place for that night’s match and Haymitch shuddered at the sight. It was too easy to remember the blood spatters, the terrified shrieks of the crowd, the voices of his teammates calling for help, the hands shoving him aside… “Chaff. What the fuck did you bring me here for?”_

_“’Cause I’m done watching you waste away in your misery.” he spat. “You’re not a professional hockey player anymore, so what? Doesn’t mean your life is over, buddy.”_

_His life was over for more reasons than just that._

_“Sure. I’m just a murderer who narrowly escaped jail.” he snorted._

_“It was an accident.” Chaff sighed. “You know it. I know it. Fuck, everyone in the business knows it. His helmet wasn’t properly on. If he was a fucking moron, that’s not on you. You were drunk, yeah, and then what? You…”_

_“Stop.” Haymitch cut him off. “I don’t need the pep talk.”_

_Chaff narrowed his eyes at him, rubbing his neck with both hands. Training was a bitch on his friend lately. “Yeah, you do. Look, Haymitch… You’re slipping.”_

_“What if I am?” he snarled. “Not your business, is it?”_

_So what if he went on benders that lasted days and drank to the point of passing out? What if he was deliberately looking for a way to self combust? What if he just wanted to_ forget _? What was so wrong with that?_

_“That’s where you’re wrong.” his best friend scoffed. “I happen to love your stupid ass so that makes it my business. Enough bullshit, Haymitch, you’re going back on skates. You belong on the ice we both know it.”_

_“And do what?” he snorted. “Hockey’s all I know.”_

_Hockey was supposed to be a good way to make money – money that should have paid his brother’s college fees. And now… Now he had savings and he didn’t know what to do with them so he might as well drink all the money away._

_“Yeah, that’s kind of why I brought you here…” Chaff winced. “Look, you won’t like it but…”_

_The familiar creaking sound of the doors being pushed open made him look up instinctively. The girl was_ breathtaking _, there was no other word for it. Blue eyes, endless legs trapped in a warming pink fleece overall with a cream turtle neck underneath, blond hair pinned high on her head… He had been around ice rinks long enough to recognize a figure skater on sight. Their eyes met and he found himself smirking, automatically turning on the charm, before bringing his attention back on his friend._

_“You’re going to spill it or what?” he frowned. “Look, you dragged me here…”_

_“Well… This is certainly_ not _what I am used to.” the girl scoffed, walking down the stairs, followed by a frail looking old woman and a man who was somehow familiar. Haymitch thought he was with the figure skating federation. “I hope you are right and the trip is worth it, Mr Heavensbee, because I must confess I see nothing impressive so far.”_

_He and Chaff winced at the same time at how high-pitched her voice was, her snobbish accent wasn’t helping matters._

_“Ah, Chaff.” the man said with a bright smile. “How good to see you again. And you convinced him, I see…” He moved past the girl and quickly walked down the stairs to shake his best friend’s hand before turning to him. “Haymitch, I am Plutarch Heavensbee. I_ do _hope this will work out. I would hate for a skater of your caliber to be forever banned from the ice and I am convinced you will be a great asset to our federation.”_

_Haymitch ignored the hand the man outstretched and stared at Chaff who pointedly looked at his own boots._

_“Is it him?” the girl asked, sounding put out. “He is too bulky for a figure skater.”_

_“That would be ‘cause I’m no figure skater, sweetheart.” he sneered, shaking his head at his friend. “You’ve pulled better pranks, Chaff. I’ll be at the bar…”_

_He hopped up the stairs only to find his path blocked by her small figure. She was tinier than he had first thought but that might be because she had a regal bearing. He tried to walk around her but she hurriedly stepped aside to make sure he couldn’t flee._

_“I_ do _apologize, I was rude.” she said, her eyes moving from him to that Heavensbee guy. “I would like to understand. We came here to audition a possible partner for me…”_

_“Yeah, and that’s not me.” he snorted. “I don’t do tights and frills, sorry.” He tried to sidestep her again but she was swift and blocked his path. He lifted his eyebrows. “Don’t think I won’t just carry you out of my way, sweetheart.”_

_It was half a joke and half a warning but she simply tilted her head. “Do it.”_

_Peculiar request but he simply grabbed her by the waist, lifted her without any difficulties and placed her on the step next to him, fully intending to continue on his merry way. Her hands locked on his arm with a surprising strong grip, holding him back, and this time he didn’t try to be nice as he turned to glare at her. “What?”_

_She pursed her lips and narrowed her eyes. “The attitude will have to go. I expect my partners to show manners. You can lift, that is very good. Now… I would like to see you on the ice.”_

_He chuckled. “Well, I’d like to see you in a bikini but I guess we can’t always have what we want.”_

_“How_ improper _.” she huffed. “Can you skate or not?”_

_“Sweetheart, I’m the best skater there is.” he drawled out, annoyed by her chirpiness._

_“My name is Euphemia Trinket although my friends call me Effie.” she snapped. “Keep your pet names for your girlfriends.”_

_“Now…” Heavensbee tried to intervene but he was cut off by Chaff who placed a hand on his shoulder and shook his head with a small knowing smile. The great idiot was probably thinking Haymitch was taken by her bitchy attitude – he did tend to have a weakness for difficult women – but that was as far from the truth as could be. She was simply_ irritating _._

_“You_ wish _you were my girlfriend.” he mocked._

_“I wish nothing of the sort, I can assure you.” she hissed. “I am not overly sweet on unkempt uncivilized brutes. Did you lose your razor, I wonder?”_

_“Your loss, Princess.” he taunted. “An unkempt uncivilized brute might knock out that stick you’ve got up your ass.”_

_She glared daggers at him. “Put on your skates and let me see you on the ice right now.”_

_He almost laughed at that. “Or_ what _? You’re not the boss of me. I already told you I’m not interested.”_

_Slowly, her anger morphed in a challenging expression. “I think you are not as good as you claim.”_

_“Not my problem what you think.” he retorted. “Don’t need you boosting my ego.”_

_“Haymitch.” Chaff finally intervened. “Give it a go.”_

_He turned in his friend’s direction. “_ Figure skating _. Seriously, Chaff? And what did you do? Look for the most annoying girl in the country?”_

_She bristled next to him._

_“No.” Chaff shrugged. “Just for the only one desperate enough to take you on despite your temper. You’re_ fucking _twenty-three. Life doesn’t end at_ fucking _twenty-three. They’re dead. You’re not. Let it go. Find something else worth living for.”_

_“Yeah, ‘cause figure skating is_ so _worth living for.” he scoffed._

_“A gold medal at the Olympics is.” his best friend shrugged. “That was your dream not long ago, wasn’t it?” He nodded at the girl. “She can bring you there.”_

_“With figure skating.” he spat dubiously._

_“Hey, it’s not hockey but it’s still skating.” Chaff shrugged again._

_“Excuse me but I dislike being talked about in third person when I am standing_ right here _.” she cut in, folding her arms over her chest. “And_ no one _said you were hired. I am_ still _waiting to see what you can do on skates.”_

_“Please, buddy.” his friend sighed. “It’s better than sitting alone in your house and drinking yourself into an early grave.”_

_It was the worry in Chaff’s voice that did it. He didn’t have a lot of loved ones left. Chaff was amongst those._

_“Fine.” he sighed. “Fine, I’ll try.” He tossed a warning look in the girl’s direction. “But I’m not a circus monkey.”_

_“Maybe not a circus monkey.” she muttered. “Perhaps a_ gorilla _.”_

_They glared at each other until the women who had been standing in silence until then, and who briefly introduced herself as Mags, ushered them down to the ice rink. A new problem arose when he was presented with black skates that clearly didn’t belong to him._

_“Figure skates.” Heavensbee clarified. “You will get used to them.”_

_He highly doubted it. The blade was thinner, the balance was different and the notch things at the edge of the blade were throwing him a little off his game. It took a few lapses of the rink before he felt comfortable enough to go full speed._

_He hadn’t been on the ice since the night of his last game and he had forgotten how much he actually liked it. The sharp cold, the noise of the blade on the ice, the rush of adrenaline as he took a sharp turn chasing after an imaginary puck…_

_Except suddenly there was a flash of pink and instead of the puck he found himself chasing after the girl. She was fast and swifter than he expected. She gave him a run for his money and the challenge amused him enough that he stopped playing and gave it his full attention. At some point, she looked back, angling her body so her feet were facing in different directions and she outstretched her arms._

_“Take her hand!” her trainer called from the stands._

_That was easier said than done. Just as his fingers brushed hers, he stumbled on those notch things and ended up sliding on his stomach. To add insult to injury, she skidded to a neat halt next to him._

_“Not bad for a first try.” she granted. “You will need to learn how to use figure skates though. Toe pick.”_

_He rolled his eyes and pulled himself to his feet, brushing the ice off his jeans and shirt, ignoring his best friend’s laughter. “Those skates are_ bullshit _.”_

_“Language.” She clucked her tongue at him before turning toward their small audience. “What do you think?”_

_The question was addressed to Mags who was watching him with a thoughtful expression. “He has strength and speed. The rest can be taught if he’s not afraid of hard work. You have chemistry.”_

_“Chemistry, right.” he mocked, slightly stunned that they were serious about this. He had thought they would make him go on the ice, realize just how stupid the whole thing was and call the whole thing off. He was a hockey player, not a_ damn _figure skater. “You do realize I killed someone not two months ago? And that was with_ a team _to watch me. Imagine what I will do with only one girl.”_

_She flinched and threw her coach a startled look but Mags didn’t seem taken aback by that little bit of news._

_“The investigation concluded to an accident, I believe.” the trainer countered._

_“I was drunk.” he spat. He heard Chaff’s frustrated groan from where he was standing._

_“Yes.” Mags nodded. “And that is something you will never be on the rink again. Rule one of pair skating: protect the girl. You are all that stands between her and massive injuries, perhaps death, you will acknowledge and honor that trust.”_

_“I didn’t say yes.” he pointed out._

_The old woman’s eyes were twinkling with amusement. “You didn’t say no.”_

_“If you do this, you have to commit.” the girl – Effie – cut in quietly. “I can’t take a chance and… We are talking about my whole career here. If you want to do this, as crazy as it sounds, you have to be in it one hundred percent – that includes moving to Colorado, I have a private ice rink available at all time and I can house you. It also means you will have to follow a certain diet and a training schedule. You have everything to learn so you probably won’t be able to think straight at the end of the day. It’s a lot to ask of someone so I beg of you if you agree to this, be sure.”_

_“Why me?” he asked._

_“Leap of faith.” she answered with a strained smile._

_“No.” he shook his head. “We do this, you don’t lie to me, sweetheart.”_

_Her smile faltered for a second and she looked down. “I injured my knee last year. There is no guarantee I will be as good as I used to be. There aren’t many choices. There aren’t_ any _choices. It is you or solo skating and, trust me, I have better chances with you.” She glanced up at him with a disapproving look. “Don’t call me sweetheart.”_

_“So you’ve got a busted knee and you’re going for a hockey player.” he snorted. “Doesn’t look like a leap of faith to me. Looks more like a free fall.”_

_“Let’s hope you catch me then.” she challenged. “Rule one. Protect the girl.”_

_A slow smirk stretched his lips._

°o°

_“Are you certain you are as good at hockey as you claimed to be?”_

_Haymitch glanced up at Effie’s taunting, instinctively adjusting his grip on his stick. He had found a collection of them along with a few pucks in a cupboard and he had grabbed a couple of them without thinking twice about it. He had placed two bottles of water as an improvised goal and he had been steadily missing every shoot ever since._

_He didn’t know if going into figure staking was a good idea but clearly he had lost his hand at hockey. Two weeks in this thing and he was still not sure all those people weren’t crazy. The girl was hot, that much was a no-brainer. She was also very much a pain in the ass who insisted on dragging him out of bed at dawn to go running before pushing him in the gym where she kept him for hours, then they had to practice lifts which resulted in him putting his hands in places that made him want to joke about buying her a drink first, and then she tortured him further by forcing him on the rink where he spent most of the afternoon falling on his ass on the ice. It was funny, he had thought he was good at skating before he had met her._

_The trainer, Mags, was nice enough if a little too motherly for his tastes, he tended to avoid her outside of training hours. She reminded him too much of his own mother and the loss was still too fresh. He had been told Effie’s mother would come back from her business trip at some point and he had also gathered from what Sae had to say – the cook was probably the only person in that house he considered a friend for now – he wouldn’t like her much._

_“Not a hockey player anymore, remember?” he grumbled._

_She watched him over the top of her fashion magazine – which was apparently one of her other passions although Haymitch tended to zone out when she talked because she could chat_ all day long _._

_“I almost expected you to say you can take the hockey player off the ice but you can’t take the ice out of the hockey player.” she commented._

_He rolled his eyes. “You make no sense. How is it like in that brain of yours? Lots of space, yeah?”_

_She narrowed her eyes at him, lips pursed and head slightly tilted to the side. “You are_ so _rude it is almost unbelievable.”_

_“Whatever you say, Princess.” he scoffed, hitting the puck. It glided well away from the makeshift goal. She snorted haughtily and he glared. “You think you can do better?”_

_“Please.” she scoffed. “How difficult can it be?”_

_She placed her magazine down and rose up from the armchair, joining him on the ice in two graceful steps. She skidded to a halt next to him, grabbed the stick and went to fetch the puck. He folded his arms, a smirk on his face as he watched her realize she would need to adjust her balance to include the stick._

_Not so surprisingly she managed to advance around two feet with the stick and the puck before ending up tripping and falling flat on her stomach._

_“That makes for a nice change.” he mocked._

_She just_ loved _to gloat when he forgot he wasn’t wearing hockey skates anymore and ended up crashing._

_“Very funny.” she deadpanned, pushing herself back up. She tested her knee a few times before going back to moving the puck around – more carefully. She got into position facing the goal and he almost burst out laughing at the way she was handling that stick._

_“You’re playing hockey or golf?” he smirked._

_“Given that you haven’t goaled once in the past fifteen minutes, should you be giving me instructions?” she retorted._

_He lifted his hands. “Suit yourself.”_

_She took out a chunk of ice but the puck didn’t move. She pouted. “Well, it seemed we are both equally unsuited for the sport.”_

_“Do you have to talk like you’re going to meet the Queen of England any second?” he scorned._

_“Do you have to talk like a hooligan?” she replied haughtily._

_“I’m going to take you.” he decided._

_“I beg your pardon?!” she gasped._

_He frowned, confused for a second, and then he_ realized _and he burst out laughing. It wasn’t a particularly kind laugh and she clearly took offense._

_“I meant at hockey, sweetheart. Take your mind out of the gutter…” He looked her up and down and licked his lips. Nobody could have qualified the flannel training pants and the red turtleneck of_ sexy _but she had a way of making everything she wore tempting anyway. “Although… If you’re so_ bent _on it…”_

_“Don’t even finish that thought.” she hissed. “And I will take you up on that challenge.”_

_He grabbed a second stick for him and off they went. He was careful. The memory of his last match still haunting him. He never bumped into her and he always kept his stick angled away from her face and body. She was a fast learner and she soon had the hang of finding her balance while using the stick but she couldn’t have touched the puck if her life had been on the line. He let her attempt to goal once or twice, mocking her when she failed again._

_The improvised game came to a halt when he – once again – forgot about the type of skates he was wearing and tried to take a sharp turn. He ended up skidding on his stomach on the ice. He was becoming very used to that. His body was bruised all over as it was._

_“Toe pick.” she reminded him with a grin._

_Fucking metal teeth at the front of the blades that he was supposed to_ use _._

_“Yeah, yeah…” he grumbled. “I know.”_

_He kneeled cautiously, making sure he was in one piece, when her hand appeared in front of his face. He looked up at her. It was the first time she offered a hand after he fell. He hesitated for a second before taking it. The momentum propelled him forward and he bumped into her. She stood her ground, of course,_ she _had no problems with her skates, but he didn’t give her her space back at once. Her eyes were very,_ very _blue and she was staring straight at him._

_He was about to make a joke that would probably have been inappropriate if only to cut through the suddenly thick tension when the door of the rink was pushed open and Mags stepped inside, her arms full of papers._

_“Break’s over.” their trainer declared “Back to business.”_

_Effie glided away fast, as if caught red handed, her cheeks flushed and clearly irritated._

_Haymitch shrugged it off as another of her weird antics._

°o°

_Haymitch hated this place._

_He slumped further in the lounge chair and immediately winced. The slightest move was painful, he had strapped bags of ice around his thighs but it was failing to relieve his aching muscles and the ice coupled with the sharp bite of the wind was making him rethink his choices. Maybe he should have found another place than the balcony to drag his sorry ass to but as huge as the mansion was, nowhere inside was safe from Elindra Trinket’s voice. He wanted to watch the stars though, the view on the woods was good, and the booze he had snatched from the liquor cabinet helped some._

_The first two weeks in Aspen hadn’t been_ too _bad, it was the last one that had been awful. The training was intense, sure, but even though it was different from what he was used to he wasn’t afraid of the work. It felt good, even if he still wasn’t used to the figure skates and spent most of his time falling on his ass or on his stomach. Stretching was the worst, he wasn’t flexible and that was torture, he was still snickering during each ballet lesson because of the ridicule of it all, but most days he was too exhausted to think and fell asleep as soon as his head touched the pillow just like Effie had promised and_ that _was good._

_Effie was annoying. Very, very annoying. Hot, certainly, but annoying. He sort of hated her. He liked riling her up, it was way too easy to anger her. On the other end, she seemed to have a gift to make_ him _angry. Mags was at the end of her rope with them._

_But the first two weeks hadn’t been_ that _bad. In between two arguments and two torture sessions, he had even surprised himself by having fun sometimes. And then Elindra had come back from her business trip…_

_She had taken one look at him, had wrinkled her nose and had asked in a very clipped voice if Effie and Mags had completely lost their minds. Off to a good start. Haymitch didn’t like being put down by snobbish bitches with a stick in their ass – at least, Effie didn’t rub her money in his face, she was snobbish, yeah, but not in a ‘I’m rich so I’m better than you’ way – first gibe she had tossed his way, he had barked back and it had escalated quickly. It wasn’t just the way she treated_ him, _it was the way she behaved with her daughter. He wasn’t sure he liked Effie but he was very sure he didn’t like the way Elindra demeaned her at every given opportunity._

_A lady didn’t raise her voice… It was all in short haughty comments and snide remarks like how Effie shouldn’t eat this or that, how it was_ such a shame _Effie couldn’t jump as high as_ she _had done in her prime, how one should just know how to quit while they were ahead…_

_They were arguing about that again right now – if that could be called arguing because there was no shouts or screams, which didn’t change anything because their voices were so high-pitched they were clearly audible from rooms away anyway. Mags had shaken her head and had retreated to her bedroom. He had heard classical music filter through the door as he had passed by._

_The mansion was huge and soulless, he hated it. Eight bedrooms, he didn’t know how many bathrooms, too many sitting rooms, a huge dining room, a room with cases full of trophies – Elindra’s and Effie’s both… It was no wonder the girl was such a spoiled brat._

_The glass door suddenly slid open and then shut and Effie hurried to the balcony, gripping the wooden banister in her hands, bowing over and taking several deep breaths._

_“You should try screaming sometimes, sweetheart.”_

_She startled and spun around, only relaxing when she spotted him on the lounge chair. “I apologize, I didn’t know you were out there, I didn’t want to disturb you.”_

_He brought the bottle of whiskey to his lips, eyeing her. She looked rattled even though she was very good at keeping a lid on her emotions. He wanted to take her on at poker one day, he was sure she would be outstanding at it. “You’re disturbing my legs going numb so I guess it’s alright.”_

_“You promised Mags you wouldn’t drink again.” she frowned with open disapproval. “You promised_ me _you were committed to this. You…”_

_“Don’t get your knickers into a twist.” He rolled his eyes. “I said I wouldn’t show up drunk on the rink. We’re not on the rink.” He held out the bottle to her. “You should have a drink.”_

_She shook her head and slowly made her way to the lounge chair next to his, sitting down with her usual grace and poise. “I wouldn’t mind sharing an ice pack though.”_

_The admission was tentative but he didn’t see where was the wrong in saying she was hurting. She had been doing this way longer than him, true, but that didn’t mean she wasn’t allowed bad days. “Liquor works better than that.” he snorted, unstrapping one of his pack to toss it at her._

_She caught it – barely – and pursed her lips at what was probably bad manners on his part._

_“Is that why you are drinking alone?” she asked. “To numb the pain? You do know we have ibuprofen somewhere, don’t you?”_

_“’Got to sleep at some point tonight and I’m not tired enough.” he shrugged, watching as she inched up her blue dress up a little and carefully applied the pack to her knee. She swallowed back the hiss but it was obvious she was in pain. “It hurts again?”_

_“I am fine.” she snapped._

_“I’m not your mother, sweetheart, I’m not looking for an edge.” he warned. “Don’t bite my head off.”_

_Anger passed on her face but the next second it was replaced with exhaustion. “My apologies. It was a long day.”_

_“Yeah, I know. I was there, remember?” he snorted. “Those ten last laps were too much. Mags’s a brute.”_

_She giggled. “She’s demanding.”_

_“My last coach was demanding.” he insisted. “She’s a tyrant.”_

_He didn’t try to suppress the fondness from his voice. It hadn’t taken him long for him to fall under the old woman’s charm. She was warm and motherly despite her implacable work ethics._

_She flashed him a small smile, not fooled by his antics. Their affection for Mags was probably the only thing they had in common so far. She moved the ice pack to the side of her knee and bit on her bottom lip, switching hands so she could shake her fingers numbed by the ice. He wordlessly untied his other ice pack and sat up straighter, ignoring the pull in his muscles, to flatten the pack on the other side of her knee. She hissed but didn’t actually protested._

_“Not going to say it’s improper or some shit?” he teased. He had his hand between her knees, after all – true enough, he put his hands all over her when they practiced lifting but it was difficult to get turned on when an old woman was shouting at you that you were doing it wrong and when someone’s safety was in the balance. Her skin was starting to redden because of the cold._

_“Language.” she rebuked, completely ignoring the question. She lifted the pack for a second, time enough for her skin to regain sensation, he figured, and then applied it again, changing hand. He did too because his fingers were going numb. “Do you need it to sleep? The liquor.”_

_He felt her eyes on his face but he kept his on her knee. There was a touch of concern in her voice that irritated him. “I’m not quite an alcoholic yet, Princess. Don’t worry, I can still do my job.”_

_“Yet.” she repeated flatly. “Do you plan to be?”_

_He licked his lips, itching to grab the bottle and take a sip just to provoke her._

_“What’s the deal with that Crane guy?” he retorted._

_That name was being tossed around all the time. He knew he was her former partner – not only was it impossible to ignore in that house but he had watched a few tapes of them performing together – but he would have bet there was more to the story than that. If she mentioned him at all during training, Mags always took a wary voice, as for Elindra… Elindra was never short of good things to say about Seneca and if Haymitch had guessed right it had a lot to do with the size of his bank account._

_“I don’t know what you mean.” she answered._

_“Sure, you don’t.” he chuckled. “Thought we were supposed to be best friends? Best friends share.”_

_That was Mags’ latest obsession: for them to_ connect _. She was desperate to get them to communicate in a way that wasn’t shouting matches but, so far, it wasn’t working. They spent their entire days together already – except dinners, Haymitch had eaten in the dining-room with Elindra once and had sworn he would stick to the kitchen from now on, even if that meant the cook would watch him throughout his dinner, at least Sae wasn’t a pain in the ass – and it didn’t make the slightest difference. After three weeks, they were still strangers._

_“Why do you drink?” she asked._

_It was almost a challenge. She was so sure he wouldn’t answer… He switched hand again on the ice pack. It was almost all melted now, water trickled down her leg._

_“Because it helps me to stop thinking.” he shrugged. “You should try sometimes.”_

_“I don’t drink.” she retorted. “I have a strict diet.”_

_A diet her mother had set up from her childhood from what he had seen. She calculated calories every time she put something in her mouth and threw him disapproving looks when he didn’t follow Mags’ instructions about what to eat or not to eat._

_“You must drink sometimes.” he frowned._

_“A flute of champagne on special occasions.” she confessed as if it was her biggest sin._

_That was a very sad thing for a twenty year old girl and it made him smirk. “I’m getting you shit-face wasted before we’re done with this partnership.”_

_“Certainly not.” she huffed._

_“I’ll loosen you up yet, Princess.” he taunted. “You’ll see.”_

_She shook her head at him, placing the now melted pack of ice at her feet. He did the same with his but not without letting his fingers trail on the side of her leg. There was a scar there. She had had surgery on that knee but she wasn’t willing to discuss it. She didn’t want to discuss_ anything _. She was all faked smiles and faked cheer all the time, it was exhausting to watch._

_“Why do you want to stop thinking?” she asked softly. “Is it because of…” She stopped and winced a little. “Is it because of what happened during your last game?”_

_His reaction was instinctive and immediate. He reached for the bottle and gulped down a long mouthful before wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. “Don’t talk about things you know_ shit _about.”_

_Most people would have stepped back at that growl but she didn’t even flinch. She sat there and watched him._ Waiting _._

_He would have liked it better if she had called him out about his manners again._

_“What’s the deal with Crane?” he asked one more time._

_She sighed and stretched her legs in front of her. “We were partners. In more ways than one.”_

_“Ah.” he snorted. “Fuck buddies.”_

_She narrowed her eyes at him. “I don’t know who you think I am but I will have you know I am not that sort of woman.”_

_“Of course not.” he mumbled. “You’re the romance kind.”_

_“Is there something wrong with that?” she scowled._

_“Nothing if he knew how to make you scream.” he taunted, lying back on the lounge chair again. He didn’t want to face her. It might be the first time they were_ really _talking and he found he didn’t quite know how to deal with that._

_“Haymitch,_ that _is very improper.” she commented._

_“’M not hearing a hearty denial that he was shit in bed…” he pointed out._

_“How is it even relevant to the conversation?” she snapped. “I have no wish to talk about that or to even_ think _about it. He betrayed me. He let me down.”_

_The pain in her voice was genuine and when he turned his head, he was stunned to find her eyes shiny with tears. She blinked them away quickly and collected herself but, right then, in the night, under the stars, she looked more human than he had ever seen her._

_“Thought he left because of the knee…” he ventured. “That’s only the job. He broke up with you too?”_

_“_ I _broke up with him, thank you very much.” she hissed. “He deserted me when I most needed him. He knows what the Olympics mean to me. He knows…” She fell silent. “Mother wants me to marry him. As you must already have gathered, she thinks I am being unreasonable and this is folly, that I should simply retire before I make a fool of myself and her name in front of the whole nation… She thinks I should forget dreams I had no chance to reach to begin with and settle for a good marriage.”_

_She kept her head turned away from him._

_He let out a long whistle. “Well, your mother’s a first class bitch.”_

_“Haymitch!” she gasped. “She is your hostess! Where were you raised? In a barn? You can’t insult your hostess!”_

_Funny that it was the only reason why he shouldn’t call her mother a bitch._

_“You know what?” he drawled out. “I think going for a drunk hockey player who got kicked out for killing someone is crazy. I think you’re crazy. And ridiculous. But I think you’ve got guts too.”_

_She stared at him for a long moment and then reclined in her own lounge chair._

_“I still think you are a ruffian who has absolutely no manners and should really learn to mind his language.” She declared after a while. “But… You have qualities.”_

_“That’s too good of you, sweetheart.” He chuckled._

_They watched the night sky in silence for a few minutes and then she placed a hand on her stomach with a wince. “Do your abs hurt?”_

_After that afternoon session? He didn’t even know how he would manage to get out of there and back inside. At the moment, spending the night on the lounge chair sounded good._

_“Like a train ran on me.” he snorted._

_“Oh, thank god, I thought I was the only one…” she laughed._

_“Shouldn’t have tried to race me.” He pointed out._

_“You shouldn’t have dared me too.” she replied._

_They exchanged a smile and Haymitch thought that,_ maybe _, she wasn’t that bad._

°o°

_“You are giving me_ nothing _.” Mags raged in an uncharacteristic fit of temper. Effie automatically glided closer to Haymitch. One month and a half of training had drilled some reflexes into her – like getting behind him to let him handle the blunt of Mags’ frustration._

_“We’ve been practicing that figure for five minutes.” Haymitch grumbled. “Give us a break.”_

_Mags had dubbed the figure_ The Eagle _. Effie was supposed to wedge her foot against his hip while he glided in second position and extend her leg behind her, once he let go of her hand, it would look like she was flying. So far they had only managed to get her up on his hip twice without falling, and the only time she had let his hand go she had ended up battling her arms like a silly bird to control her balance before toppling over right into his arms. He had promptly declared they shouldn’t call it_ The Eagle _but_ The Goose _because Effie looked like a silly goose._

_“This is not about the move.” Mags clicked her tongue once. “This is about you two. You are giving me nothing here or here.” She waved at her face and then between the two of them. “You’ve got chemistry but you are not exploiting it. You two are boring to watch.”_

_“Please, tell me that means another fondling session…” he smirked. “It’s been too long since I groped her.”_

_Effie whacked his shoulder hard, annoyed. Mags gave them those ridiculous team building exercises where they had to hug or run their hands over each other’s body to get used to touching each other on the ice… It was all fun and game until Haymitch grew bored and started teasing her by putting his hands in inappropriate places. It wasn’t that she minded. Actually, that was what irritated her: she didn’t_ quite _mind._

_They were partners. It was supposed to be professional. She never had any problems separating work and personal life with Seneca and they had been_ involved _._

_But Haymitch…_

_Haymitch was something else entirely. Every time they touched it felt loaded with unvoiced intent. Sometimes she spied him staring at her from the corner of her eyes and his gaze was so full of heat it made her shiver. She had never quite understood what lust felt like before she had met him, but now she kept that under lock and key, buried deep inside herself because such unprofessional thoughts had no place on the rink._

_Even if the few times he had taken off his shirt during training she had almost drooled with_ want _._

_She knew she affected him in the same way, that was her only consolation._

_Mags wasn’t amused by his antics. Her frown was severe and her lips were pursed tight._

_“I am going to leave you alone for one hour.” their trainer declared. “I want you to share something, something so private, when I come back in here I will see two people united by a profound bound of trust. Am I clear?”_

_“Not really.” he scoffed._

_Mags glared at him, pointing a warning finger at his chest. “You, boy, are going to tell her your deepest secret so she knows you trust her with everything you have. And you…” she turned to Effie. “…will do the very same. You will both thank me when you are World Champions.”_

_She left, muttering under her breath about stubborn young people, leaving Haymitch and Effie to stare at her retreating back. The door to the rink slammed shut behind her and Effie, who wasn’t usually subject to claustrophobia, felt trapped._

_“That’s bullshit.” Haymitch scowled. “Come on, let’s practice_ The Goose _. She’ll calm down.”_

_“That is not what she asked us to do.” Effie pointed out._

_“And you_ always _do what you’re told, right, Trinket?” he mocked._

_She didn’t like it when he called her by her last name. He had a system, she had noticed._ Trinket _was when he was either frustrated or angry with her,_ Effie _meant he was dead serious, and his random pet names were either mocking or fond depending on the situation._

_Right now, she figured_ Trinket _meant he was out of his comfort zone._

_“It is called_ The Eagle _not_ The Goose _.” she pointed out with a sigh, getting into position._

_“I renamed it for you. It’s a tribute.” he retorted, wriggling his eyebrows. “Don’t say I never gave you anything.”_

_She shook her head and went for it. He bent his knees, she wedged her foot against his hip and pushed, propping himself on his hand… For a second, she was there, leg outstretched behind her, arms in position… She let go of his hand and she was soaring… Right until she tumbled forward, unable to get her balance right and_ thank god _he managed to break her fall. He didn’t catch her properly this time though, only grabbing her torso, dragging her legs on a few feet on the ice._

_“You’re okay?” he asked immediately after they had stopped free gliding and he had hauled her back on her skates._

_“Yes.” she said but winced when she put her weight on her knee. “Perhaps we should take a small break.”_

_She escaped his hands and tried to skate toward the armchairs only to lose footing. He caught her more gently than she expected. She tried to get free but he wouldn’t relent, shooting her leg a concerned glance. It annoyed her but his grip was firm. “Let me help.”_

_“I don’t_ need _help.” she snapped. “I am fine.”_

_“Yeah, you’re just peachy.” he spat, letting go of her. “Suit yourself, sweetheart.”_

_Reaching the edge of the rink was trickier than she would have liked and she limped to the chair – there was no hiding that when he was watching her. She immediately unlaced her skate to relieve her leg of the weight and outstretched it, biting her bottom lip to swallow back a hiss. She heard him move around but she was more concerned with wrapping her hands around her knee to estimate the swelling._

_Something was tossed on her lap. Ibuprofen. She looked up and took the bottle of water he was handing her._

_“Thank you.” she said reluctantly, because she had manners. “I do apologize. I will be ready to practice in a moment.”_

_He shrugged and slumped in the other armchair. “It’s fine. Take your time.”_

_She hesitated and then rolled up the leg of her fleece training pants, assessing the damage. It wasn’t too swollen that day. She swallowed a pill and then pressed the bottle against her skin. It wasn’t cold enough to bring relief but it was still cold and it would have to do._

_“I can go fetch you a pack of ice.” he offered._

_“It is unnecessary, thank you.” she replied quietly._

_“How bad is it?” he asked, his grey eyes staring at the ugly scar on the side of her knee._

_“I am fine.” she insisted._

_“So you said.” He rolled his eyes. “Again and again. You know I know it’s a lie right? You don’t have strength in that knee. I’ve got to compensate for it when I help you jump.”_

_Her face flushed crimson. “I will work on that.”_

_“That’s not what I meant.” he sighed. “Look… You’re hurt. It’s not your fault. I’m just asking. How bad is it? Every time I toss you I’m scared your leg won’t hold on landing.”_

_“It will hold.” she hissed. “It will_ always _hold.”_

_She will force it to. She had worked too hard for her body to betray her._

_“Is that the truth or wishful thinking?” he snorted._

_She stared at the bottle in her hand, blinking back the tears burning her eyes. She wasn’t prone to crying fits but the last month and a half had been exhausting. She had trained harder than ever and it was taking its toll._

_“It_ has _to.” she whispered._

_His fingers were drumming distractedly against the armrest. He was slouched in a way that was neither proper nor good for his back but she didn’t call him out on it for once._

_“Don’t shut me out of that.” he requested just as quietly. “You tell me when it hurts, I can help. We can work something out. If you can’t jump I can toss you higher. If you can’t push on it, I can lift you up. We_ can _work_ around _it.”_

_Her eyes darted to him and back to the scar. “You_ do _realize that it was why Seneca left, of course. You shouldn’t have to work around it. There are better partners out there. You have a suitable level now. You could probably find someone else with Plutarch’s help. Someone who wouldn’t be damaged.”_

_He shrugged. “I’ve got nothing against damaged. I’m not exactly whole myself in case you didn’t notice, sweetheart.”_

_She wondered if that was what Mags expected of them: sit and talk. They talked everyday but they didn’t really_ share _. Effie was outgoing but naturally kept her secrets and feelings close to her chest and Haymitch… Haymitch wasn’t talkative. He usually let her do the chatting when he wasn’t interrupting with inane gibes._

_“Do you want the truth?” she asked._

_She thought it would have been rude to impart truths without asking first. People were entitled to their ignorance in her opinion. It was certainly easier to pretend than to face reality. She excelled at pretending._

_“You tell me.” he smirked, leaning over to snatch the bottle from her hand. His fingers brushed her skin and she briefly wondered how they would feel on other parts of her body. She chased that thought away quickly. It was his smirk. His smirk was insolent and infuriating and it did things to her stomach. She watched as he brought the bottle to his lips and swallowed a few mouthfuls of water, she watched his Adam’s apple bobbling up and down and had to suppress the urge to_ reach out _and_ touch _… Clearly, she wasn’t being subtle because he handed her the bottle back, his grey eyes twinkling with amusement. “Keep on looking at me like that and we’ll share something private_ alright _, Princess.”_

_She shook her head, pursing her lips and narrowing her eyes at him. “Nothing of that sort will_ ever _happen.”_

_“If you say so.” he taunted._

_“I say so.” she huffed._

_She pressed the now half empty bottle to her knee again._

_“Come on…” he prompted, slumping further down the armchair. “I’m waiting for the terrible truth.”_

_She took her time answering that, she took her time choosing her words and pondering what she hadn’t really admitted out loud yet. She had been denying it ever since she had been evacuated from the stadium in an ambulance, ever since the surgery and the doctor’s gentle but firm warnings she would never skate the way she used to, ever since they had told her competitions were over for her…_

_“Mother is right.” she declared. “I am just deluding myself. I will never win anything again. I dragged you into this hopeless quest of mine, you deserve better and I am sorry.”_

_He was silent for a while, watching her staring at her knee. Eventually, he nudged her good leg with his still skate-clad foot._

_“You dragged me into nothing.” he said firmly. “If you hadn’t come and get me I would probably be drunk in a ditch right now. Or worse.” It was his turn to look away. He made an effort to keep his voice casual but it wasn’t enough to hide the bitterness and the pain underneath. “Didn’t have pretty thoughts inside my head when we met.”_

_She hesitated a little because he was never open and rarely talked about himself at all._

_“Because of the accident?” she tried anyway. She should have been more peeved by that than she was. Someone was dead because he had been careless. And now her life was in his hands every time they stepped on the rink. Yet she wasn’t nervous. From the very first day he had proved to her that her safety was his priority. If there was one rule he took to heart it was the first one: protect the girl._

_“Accident.” he repeated slowly with a snarl. “That’s a stupid way to call it. I_ killed _that guy.”_

_“You didn’t mean to.” she corrected quietly. “It_ was _an accident.”_

_“I didn’t mean to…” he chuckled. “You talk like Chaff. You think it makes a difference to this guy’s family if I meant to or not? You think it makes a difference to me? He’s still dead. I still did it. If I hadn’t been wasted…” He stopped abruptly. She reached out to cover his hand but he jerked away from her touch. “Don’t.”_

_“I would like to help.” she offered._

_“I’m a murderer. There’s no helping with that.” he sneered. “I’ve got this habit of killing people_ without meaning to _. You should watch out really…”_

_His pain was so raw it hurt her. She felt ridiculous with her petty problems compared to that._

_“Why were you drunk?” she asked._

_“’Cause the thought of playing made me sick.” he confessed, letting his head fall back and closing his eyes. “I wanted to quit, the coach wouldn’t let me. And it made me sick. It was my first match since…”_

_He stopped again._

_“Since?” she prompted._

_The sneer he turned on her was aggressive, almost scary. “What are you? My shrink?”_

_She outstretched her hand but didn’t touch him. She just let it hover between them, palm up. “You can trust me, Haymitch. I won’t judge.”_

_“You should.” he snapped, eyeing her hand with open mistrust. She kept it there. Waiting. He was like a wounded animal sometimes – not that she had any experience with that – and it required patience. Slowly, he took her hand, entwining their fingers, but he didn’t look at her. “My family died in a car crash. I killed them too.”_

_Her emotions must have flashed on her face because he cringed and tried to move away from her. She held him back by their locked hands, schooling her features into something neutral, something he wouldn’t mistake for pity – she instinctively knew that it would have been the worst thing._

_“Were you driving?” she asked the obvious question._

_“No.” He gritted his teeth. “My Mom was tired but I was playing at home for the first time in months so I made a big fuss until she agreed to come and watch the match anyway. She took the car. She crashed it. It caught fire. She and my brother burned alive.”_

_“Haymitch…” she breathed out._

_“Yeah, you haven’t seen anything until someone calls you to the morgue to indentify your family’s charred corpses.” he chuckled. “Is that private and deep enough for you, sweetheart? We’re magically better now, you think?”_

_He snatched his hand from hers and bolted to his feet, angrily taking laps around the rink, practicing the triple loop jump Mags had told him was unnecessary since he wasn’t a solo skater. He was being reckless, putting too much energy in his push and not being careful enough on landing. She hurried in lacing her skate back, scared he would injure himself. She completely ignored the pain in her knee when she glided to him, almost colliding with him as he was about to jump again – he was her partner and he was in pain, that was more important._

_“What the_ fuck _are you doing?” he spat._

_She wrapped her arms around his neck and when he tried to push her away, she jumped and locked her legs around his waist, effectively hugging him like an octopus. They free-glided again for a while until he adjusted his grip on her._

_“I don’t need cuddles.” he grumbled._

_“Yes, you do.” she hissed. “You, stupid_ stupid _man. Yes, you do.” She ran her fingers in his hair in a soothing fashion until he relented and buried his face in her neck. It was different from the hundreds of times Mags had forced them to do that. This time, it felt real. “It wasn’t your fault.”_

_“Don’t say that.” he snarled against her skin. “Yeah, it was.”_

_She kept her voice soft but stern. “No, Haymitch. The car accident truly wasn’t.” She petted his hair gently. “Is that why you drink?”_

_“I drink because it’s easy.” he said. “I’m scared how easy sometimes.”_

_“You should fight it.” she told him. “You shouldn’t give in to that. Ever.”_

_“I’m sharing an awful lot and you’re not.” he muttered._

_“I don’t… My problems feel small now.” she confessed._

_“Tell me.” he commanded, pressing a kiss against her neck before looking up. That was new. And it took her breath away for a second. She barely felt his lips but the stubble itched in a pleasant way against her sensitive skin. She blinked, batting her eyelashes to hide her confusion. His grey eyes were staring straight at her with a focus and an intensity few people had ever gifted her with in the past. Right now, to him, she was the only thing existing in the universe and, she thought, somehow, that was exactly what she was after. Attention._

_“It’s ridiculous.” she warned him._

_“_ You _’re ridiculous.” he snorted. “What’s new?”_

_It was her turn to look away. “I need to win an Olympic gold medal. I feel as if as long as I don’t have one I am worth nothing.”_

_“That’s_ bullshit _.” he scoffed. “You’ve got a room full of trophies.”_

_“Most of them are my mother’s.” she sighed. “And she thinks Seneca was the awards winner in our partnership. I am not good enough for any of them. I am only second best. I am_ always _only second best to her, to Seneca, to my father when he remembers I exist… If I could just prove it to her that…”_

_“Sweetheart, you will_ never _prove it to her.” he cut her off. “She’s a bitch. She’s twisted and nasty.”_

_“She simply wants the best for me.” she argued._

_“If you say so.” he shrugged. “I think you should do what makes you happy. If you want to win a gold medal, fine. But do it for_ yourself, _not for her. You’re_ fucking _talented, Effie. Look what you made of_ me. _A month and a half ago I was just a finished hockey player…”_

_“That was Mags.” she said, ducking her head._

_“That was_ you _.” he retorted, bringing his hand to her face to nudge her chin up. Her knee was starting to hurt in that position so she unlocked her legs from around his waist and slowly touched ground. She didn’t move away though, rather enjoying the way he was cupping her cheek. “You’re not second best. You’ll never be second best.” His thumb left her chin to gently brush against her lips. “And if you’re not good enough for them,_ screw them _. You’re the best.”_

_She placed a hand on his chest, his shirt creasing a little under her fingers. She angled her face the right way and he leaned in and…_

_The door opened and Mags strode in._

_They sprung apart guiltily._

_The old woman studied them with an amused spark in her eyes and then she lifted her eyebrows. “That is not exactly what I asked of you.”_

_“We did the soul-sharing.” Haymitch grumbled. “Now we’re working or what?”_

_There was a tinge of awkwardness when he grabbed her hand to try_ The Eagle – _or_ The Goose _or whatever he wanted to call it – again but Effie was too professional to let it bother her. She swept it under the rug with the almost-kiss._

_It had no place on the rink._

°o°

_Effie knocked on his door and went in without waiting, knowing he wouldn’t answer anyway – he never did in normal situations and right now he was sulking._

_“It’s me. I wanted to see how…” she announced only to stop when she spotted him sprawled on his bed with the bottle in his hand. She pursed her lips and drew out a sigh, closing the door behind her in case anyone wandered by. “_ Really _? After what you confided in me? You are_ really _drinking?”_

_“Fuck off, Trinket.” he spat, bringing the – mercifully, almost full – bottle to his lips._

_She pursed her lips tighter. “You got scared. It happens.”_

_“I didn’t get_ scared _. I almost_ killed _you.” he snarled. “I don’t know what Mags was thinking but we’re never trying this again.”_

_“Of course we will be trying this figure again. This figure will win us Nationals.” she argued. “And trust me, if you had almost killed me, I would still be screaming at you.”_

_“So my blade didn’t open your back then.” he sneered._

_“It’s nothing but a scratch.” she tempered, turning around to lift her shirt and show him. It_ was _nothing. It had hurt when it had happened and she had cried out but it was honestly nothing. “I am perfectly fine, I assure you.”_

_He sat up but shook his head, taking another mouthful of liquor. “I’m not doing it again.”_

_“Haymitch.” she sighed._

_“Fuck off, Effie.” he repeated, bolting to his feet to pace the room like a caged lion._

_She could feel his pent-up anger and fear from where she was standing. They had been doing_ so _much better lately… Mags’ methods to enforce team building were awkward and often emotionally painful but even though they still argued on a daily basis, she felt as if they had struck an understanding during the last three months of training – if not a friendship. Training was doing well. Their Nationals free program was taking shape… It was all based on speed because it was his strength and she could adapt, there were enough_ wow _factors to secure them points and the risk factors were mild but reasonable for that level of competing. Their routine was out of the box and Effie liked it a lot. It was different from anything she would have ever done with Seneca and that was good. A new page._

_“Mind your language.” she snapped, suddenly annoyed too._

_They were losing two hours of training because of his insecurities and she was tired of him turning to alcohol every time something like that happened. They were professional figure skaters, there would be near misses and injuries, it went with the job. She swooped down on him and snatched the bottle from his hand._

_He wasn’t expecting that, she could tell, and he remained stunned in place long enough that she managed to escape to the en-suite bathroom. He grabbed her around the waist just as she was tilting it over the sink and pulled her back. Some whiskey spilled on the floor as they struggled for the bottle._

_“Let go!” he ordered, still holding her tight against his chest with one arm, using his free hand to try and grab the bottle._

_“As you wish.” she snapped, tossing it further away. It shattered on the tiled floor, glass flew everywhere and she realized belatedly that he was barefoot but before she could tell him to be careful, she was manhandled and pinned to the wall._

_“You’re a_ bitch _.” he hissed right in her face._

_She fully intended to slap him but she buried her fingers in his hair and kissed him instead. His response wasn’t instantaneous but when he caught up, he caught up_ fast _. His tongue pushed between her lips and she opened her mouth readily, more turned on than she should have been by the hard grip he kept on her arms. The kiss was wet and hot and forceful._

_She had never been kissed like that._

_When she ran out of air, she pulled his head back by his hair. She was a little shocked by this wild side of herself she had never explored before. She was a little thrilled too. He refused to be directed though and thus he kissed her again, letting go of her arms to grab her under the thighs and forcing her up. She locked her legs around his waist, responding eagerly to his kiss, trailing one hand under the collar of his shirt…_

_Suddenly she wasn’t pinned to the wall anymore but carried back to the bedroom. He never took his mouth of hers as he lowered her to the bed and there was nothing gentle in the way he tore her clothes from her body. He never stopped to ask if she was sure, he never asked if that was what she wanted. His hands were calloused but warm when they touched her._

_He was rough but never brutal._

_It was nothing like what she was used to._

_They were in perfect synch. It was better than anything they had ever managed to achieve on the ice._

_The cry of pure bliss escaped her throat without her consent, taking her by surprise and prompting him to chuckle against her chest. “I knew Crane was_ shit _in bed.”_

_She was too dazed by the strength of her climax to protest that._

_Afterwards, he rolled off her and they lied side by side for a couple of seconds, panting heavily._

_She wondered if they should talk about what had just happened and then concluded it wasn’t necessary. The tension had been thick from the start. It had been bound to happen._

_“Don’t drink when you are scared.” she requested once she had caught her breath back._

_His chest was still rising and falling quickly. “I wasn’t_ fucking _scared. I’ve got a death count of three already. Don’t want to add a fourth, that’s all.”_

_She briefly covered her face with her hands, knowing he wasn’t in any state to listen to rational arguments on that account. “Haymitch…”_

_“I don’t do pillow talk.” he growled. “Either shut up or get out.”_

_She huffed in annoyance and sat up, straddling him briefly to get out on his side of the bed given that it was where her clothes were. She slipped her panties and her sports bra back on quickly, not looking back at him._

_“You don’t have to drink when you are feeling overwhelmed.” she declared, pulling her flannel training pants back on. “That was all I was going to say. There are other ways to stop thinking.”_

_“Like what?” he scoffed. “Drugs?”_

_“Sex.” she snapped. “Do keep up on what I am saying.”_

_She wasn’t quite sure what she was offering there but when she bent in two to grab her shirt his arm snatched around her waist and pulled her back on the bed, manhandling her until she was on her stomach and he was straddling her thighs._

_“So what? I can fuck you every time I fancy a drink?” he mocked. “So much for ‘I’m not the fuck buddies’ kind…”_

_His hands ran on the small of her back, his thumbs retracing along the waistband of her pants, before she felt his lips on her skin, following the scratch his blade had accidentally left earlier. It was as much of an apology as she would ever get._

_“If it keeps you sober, I don’t mind.” she replied._

_“Why, sweetheart, thank you for the martyr act.” he sneered. “Thanks. I’ll pass.”_

_She forcefully pushed him off her so she could face him, glaring daggers. “Didn’t you like it?”_

_She tried to kept her voice steady but a touch of vulnerability slipped through. She wasn’t_ that _experienced. She was only twenty and Seneca had been her first and only…_

_His face softened a little. “Hard not to.” A slow smirk stretched his lips. “I think we’re better at this than at skating. Say, sweetheart… Do they have sex competitions?”_

_“You are insufferable.” she sighed, shaking her head with fondness. “You are single. I am single. Where is the wrong in this? If you need comfort, you can come to me. I am your partner, you can rely on me. And I would like this better than you getting drunk.”_

_He thought that over for a moment and then shrugged. “Works both ways, then. When your mother riles you up and you need an outlet, you come to me instead of bottling it up. But it’s all fun, right? No strings attached.”_

_“Oh, that is very fine with me.” she replied. “I am done with romance.”_

_“Good.” he snorted, coiling his hand around her nape to pull her into a messy kiss._

_Effie quickly decided it was the best kind of kisses._

°o°

_“Because you are wrong and I am right!” she exploded, letting the door of the rink slam shut behind her. She was relieved to glimpse Mags on the ice, they had been looking all over the house for her. It was like she didn’t want to be found. Their trainer stopped skating to turn to them, placing her hands on her hips. “Mags, tell him he is wrong! He is being pig-headed.”_

_“_ I _’m being pig-headed?” Haymitch scoffed behind her, almost pushing her out of the way to get closer to their coach. “Tell her she’s the stubborn one here!”_

_“I don’t know why you are arguing and I do not particularly want to.” Mags snapped. “Training is done for today, why don’t you go do… something else. Elsewhere.”_

_“But we want your opinion.” he argued._

_Effie swatted his arm. “Educated people do not start their sentences with_ but _.”_

_“I’m not educated, you like to tell me a hundred times a day.” he scowled. “Now shut up and listen to Mags when she says you’re an idiot.”_

_“Mags would_ never _say I am an idiot.” she retorted, outraged by the very idea. “You are the only one rude enough in this house to call people names.”_

_“Yeah, me and your dragon of a mother!” he snarled._

_“My mother would_ never _call anyone by nasty names.” she hissed defensively._

_“No, she just_ implies _them, right?” he spat._

_“Mags…” she pleaded for support, turning to their trainer who had left the ice at some point and was now busy unlacing her skates. “Tell him…”_

_“I will tell him nothing, girl.” Mags cut her off. “It is eight p.m. and I listened to you arguing all day. Settle this and do it far from me, you are giving me a headache.”_

_Effie watched, wide eyes, as Mags put on her boots and stormed out –_ fled _their presence almost._

_“Now, you did it, sweetheart.” he scoffed. “She’s angry. Wanna bet she’s going to take it out on us at training tomorrow?”_

_“_ I _did_ nothing _. It is you who is being extremely difficult today.” she growled, turning around to face him and finding herself very much in his space. Anger and annoyance prompted her to take another step forward, jutting her chin in the air. “Why are you being like this? What are you trying to prove?”_

_His mouth crashed on hers before she could even register he was moving. It didn’t matter, in the next moment she had her arms around his neck and she was kissing back almost violently. They hadn’t done that enough times for her to be used to it yet and she squeaked when he lifted her up and pinned her to the wall. That made him chuckle and it infuriated her._

_She punished him by biting down on his bottom lip._

_She could learn to enjoy settling arguments this way, she thought._

°o°

_Haymitch wasn’t an early bird. Given the choice he would go to sleep late in the night and get out of bed only around noon. Mags and Effie had a different opinion of what constituted an acceptable hour to get up though and thus everyday he dragged his body out of bed at six thirty, took a shower, staggered to the kitchen to beg a cup of coffee out of Sae, stole a pastry Effie wouldn’t have approved of him eating, and then wandered to the hall where Effie was waiting for him at seven thirty sharp so they could go for a run. Depending on the thickness of the coat of snow outside, they either went to the woods surrounding the property where a clean path circled back all around the estate or they used the treadmill. Given the choice, Haymitch would also pick going outside every time._

_That morning, for the first time in four months of training, Effie was late._

_He waited fifteen minutes, sitting on the steps of the huge staircase, already thinking about the taunts he would be able to throw her way because when_ he _was late he never heard the end of it until the end of the day. At a quarter to eight he frowned and climbed the stairs all the way to her room. Their training program was scheduled down to the minute, any lateness on their part would throw the whole day off and Mags would probably lecture them for hours about being responsible young adults instead of acting like bickering teenagers._

_He didn’t bother knocking on her door and simply stepped in, a taunt already on his lips. “You’re coming or…” He stopped when he spotted her in her bed, buried under the pink comforter. He had expected to find her running around getting ready, not still lying down. His amusement turned to worry. “You’re sick, sweetheart?”_

_“I am fine.” she grumbled. “You shouldn’t barge into people’s bedrooms, Haymitch. It’s rude.”_

_He dropped on her bed, studying her. “Are we skipping running, today? Can think of other kinds of training I would like to do…” He winked at her with a smirk, tugging the comforter down. They had had sex four times and every time had been better than the last. He would have been lying if he had said he wasn’t eager for a repeat._

_She batted his hand away and sat up with a sigh. “No, we can’t afford to lose time. I am sorry I was late. We should go. Were you planning on going to the woods today or did you want to stay in?”_

_She was already dressed, he realized as he watched her carefully extracting herself from the bed. She had her training outfit on. Why had she gotten ready and then decided to go back to bed? That wasn’t like her…_

_“Your butler says the path in the woods is clear so I was thinking out.” It was plain odd to say things like ‘your butler’ and Haymitch would never grow used to it. “But we can stick to the mills if you’re not feeling great.”_

_“No.” she replied, putting on her running shoes. “I am fine. Let’s go.”_

_She was clearly not fine. She was limping._

_He didn’t rise from the bed when she made her way to the door._

_“Your knee’s bothering you.” he observed. “Told you you were pushing too hard yesterday.”_

_“My knee is perfectly fine._ So am I _.” she hissed. “And we are not pushing hard enough. The competition is in two months. The waltz isn’t clean. The free program is nowhere near finished…”_

_“You’re ten minutes away from a breakdown…” he added in a bored voice. “Look, if you’re hurt, you’re hurt. We can keep it easy today and see if you’re better tomorrow. Pushing on that injury isn’t going to help us make any progress, Effie.”_

_“We don’t have the luxury of taking it easy as you say.” she retorted._

_“No? Then what were you staying in bed for, then?” he mocked._

_She didn’t gratify that with an answer but he got it anyway. She was playing down the limping, he realized as they were reaching the start of the trail through the woods. Her face was blank but her lips kept twitching with every step and every time she put her foot down she did it purposefully as if challenging her own body to betray her._

_“Effie.” he growled in warning._

_She started running – if the odd hopping-waddling could be called running – without looking back at him once._

_“Fuck it.” he spat under his breath, taking off after her. He caught up easily and he glared. “What happened to that ‘we can rely on each other’ speech, sweetheart?”_

_“I don’t need to rely on you right now. I am perfectly capable of taking care of myself.” she retorted._

_She tried to pick up the pace, leave him behind like she often easily did, but it didn’t quite work out. She gradually slowed down instead and, to her obvious annoyance, he stuck close to her, ready to break a fall if it came to that. They were near the loop that would take them back to the house when she stopped abruptly and leaned against the nearest tree, her lips pursed tight and looking very white._

_“You’re done playing the hero?” he asked calmly._

_She bit on her bottom lip and averted her eyes. “It is bad manners to mock a lady in distress.”_

_“I’ve been in bed with you. You’re no lady.” he taunted. She flushed red but for different reasons. He walked closer, placing a hand on her waist. “You can walk or you need help?”_

_She hesitated and for a second he thought she would insist on walking but then she shook her head, her eyes filling to the brim with tears she didn’t shed. “It’s been hurting since last night. It’s throbbing. I… I don’t think I can walk back.”_

_“Okay.” was all he said. He wrapped his arm around her waist and waited until she had locked her arms around his neck to pick her up in a practiced move. “Just for the record, sweetheart… You’re_ fucking _stubborn.”_

_“I am not stubborn I am just determined.” she argued, resting her head on his shoulder._

_“Potato, Po-tah-to, Princess.” he snorted._

_It took twice as long as it would usually have taken them to reach the house. Mags was waiting on the porch, her arms crossed, obviously either annoyed or worried by the delay. Any trace of irritation disappeared when she spotted them though and she hurried to meet them._

_“I am fine.” Effie said preemptively. “My knee is simply bothering me a little today. I am sure I’ll be fine in an hour or two.”_

_“She needs ice and painkillers.” Haymitch told Mags firmly. “And she’s staying off that leg today.”_

_“You’re her doctor now, boy?” the old women teased only to immediately nod. “Day off.”_

_“We can’t afford…” Effie started._

_“Shut up.” he snapped. “You’re hurt, so you’re resting before you get_ more _hurt. End of discussion.”_

_He placed her on the couch in the living-room and warned her in a gruff voice that she better_ stay _there. He was happy to escape in search of a blanket, ice and ibuprofen for her because the fight she and Mags got into was nasty._

_“What is_ the point _of calling the doctor?” Effie retorted loudly to whatever their trainer said. “I know what he will say and you know what_ I _will say. Truly, there is no need to waste anyone’s time.”_

_He came back, his arms full of stuff, just as Mags was leaving the room. He met her in the corridor and she shook her head. “Try to keep her off that leg, boy, will you?”_

_“Easier said than done.” he grumbled, taking a deep breath before entering the room where she was pouting on the couch, her legs stretched on the leather to relieve her aching knee. He placed the ice pack on her leg first, ignoring her hissing, and then tossed the blanket on her lap before handing her the painkillers and the bottled water._

_“This is ridiculous.” she complained._

_“You’re ridiculous.” he retorted. “Don’t move from that couch.”_

_Her pout deepened when he left but she looked pleasantly surprised when he came back ten minutes later even though she soon scowled at what he was carrying. “We can’t eat that!”_

_“Sure, we can.” he countered, setting down the plates with the still warm apple pie and the box of vanilla ice cream. “We’re on holidays, sweetheart. You’re allowed crap food on holidays.”_

_“If Mother ever learns…” she argued and he rolled his eyes, cutting her off before she could finish that thought._

_“The dragon’s in Moscow.” he reminded her. “She won’t know if you have a slice of apple pie.”_

_She let out a low tempted whine, staring at the piece of pie he was cutting with longing. “Without ice cream then.”_

_That whine did things to him it shouldn’t have and he carefully kept his eyes averted from her. Her, lying on the couch, whining or whimpering… That was enough for his imagination to go in overdrive._

_“Apple pie isn’t apple pie without ice cream.” he declared, scooping a generous portion of it and placing it on her pastry. “Sae says you need to fill up.”_

_“If I filled up any more you would never be able to lift me up.” she replied, accepting the plate and the spoon with a small smile of gratitude. “I already gained weight since you came here. You are_ always _trying to make me eat things that are not in my diet.”_

_“You’re thin as a toothpick, you can fill up a bit.” he smirked. “So… What’s your favorite movie, sweetheart?”_

_“_ Breakfast at Tiffany’s _. Why?” She moaned when she took her first mouthful of pie and,_ again _, he tried to ignore it but it shot straight to certain parts of him who only wanted to stand to attention. “Do you know how long it has been since I had that?”_

_“Too long.” he scoffed, standing to browse through the collection of video tapes on the shelves. He found what he was looking for and tinkered with the player until it worked. They had one of those new fancy dvd players too but that was still too new and experimental for him. He would stick to VHS. “Your life sucks.”_

_“Language.” she chided him. When the credits started to roll she gasped. “Oh, no, Haymitch! We do not have time to watch a movie! If we can’t practice we should at least watch some tapes or…”_

_“Can you just shut up and relax for once?” he begged, grabbing his own plate and lifting her legs to place them back on his lap so he could sit down on the couch with her._

_It seemed to be too hard of a request to follow for her. She managed to sit still through the first half of the movie, mainly because she was busy eating her pie but she fidgeted through the second half._

_“You’re in pain?” he asked after a while._

_“No.” she denied and when he lifted an eyebrow she sighed. “_ No _. I think the swelling is reducing. And, yes, I now see the wisdom of staying off my leg. I just… I feel guilty. We should be practicing.”_

_“You’re allowed a day off once in a while.” he declared. “We train nonstop seven days a week. Nobody’s gonna die ‘cause we took a day off. Just_ enjoy _.”_

_She sat up when he put a second movie. When he settled back on the couch, instead of placing her legs back on his lap, she leaned against his side. Somehow, without him truly understanding how, they ended up with him lying on the couch and her sprawled on him, her head neatly tucked under his chin, one of his hands under her sweater, palm flat against the smooth skin of her back, and the other playing with her hair._

_“I am surprised you have not tried to get me naked yet.” she confessed, sounding a little put off._

_“Trust me, if there was any way to do it without putting strain on your knee I would already have you begging.” he joked._

_“Perhaps you are not creative enough.” she purred, nuzzling his neck._

_“I’m plenty creative.” he snorted. “I just don’t want to risk you getting hurt._ Awkward _to explain to Mags.”_

_She breathed out slowly and he had the distinct impression she would soon take a nap. On him. Like it was a casual thing they did._

_“You are secretly a softie.” she decided._

_He rolled his eyes but not amount of trying convinced her she was wrong._

°o°

_The bar was shady and it was the last place one would have expected to find Effie Trinket. She was so out of place in her electric blue dress, high heels and fancy braided hairdo that it was a source of endless amusement to Haymitch._

_Nationals were only a week away and she had whined and complained when he had gotten the afternoon and following morning off from Mags but they had been training for six months, they were as ready as they would ever going to be, and his former hockey team was playing in Aspen. He hadn’t wanted to pass on an opportunity to see Chaff._

_She had pouted and pouted so he had rolled his eyes and told her she could come if she was so unable to relax by herself. He had regretted the invitation as soon as it had been out of his mouth mainly because it had taken too long for her to get ready and when she had appeared at the top of the stairs in that figure hugging dress, he had told her they were going to a hockey match not the opera._ Fashion _, she had retorted, knew no venues – which was a lot of bullshit in his opinion to say she wanted to play dress up._

_She had never been to a hockey match before and had been completely lost the whole time, appalled by the violence of the sport and she had eventually looped her arms around his and had declared she was glad he was out of that field._

_His former teammates’ welcome hadn’t been warm but it hadn’t been as cold as he had expected it to be. They had lost their star player when he had been banned and their general scores for the season had suffered. Effie had gone a long way in smoothing ruffled feathers. She was outgoing, chatty, friendly and so very much a natural charmer that she had had everyone eating in her hand in ten minutes flat. She was now playing pool – or crushing everyone at pool rather – and it made for a nice view._

_From time to time, guys approached her but, every time, she answered them with a bright smile, nodding at the bar where he was sitting, the guy would size him and Chaff up and move along. He figured she was telling them she wasn’t there alone. He kind of liked it._

_He had dreaded the evening a little but now he was perfectly relaxed, enjoying the low rock and roll background music and the tepid virgin cocktail in his hand. The bartender had looked at him funny when he had placed his order but one week away from Nationals he wouldn’t risk falling back on his demons._

_“You stare at her any longer she’s going to self-combust.” Chaff mocked._

_He startled a little, jerked out of less than innocent thoughts. How was he supposed to keep a clear mind when she was bending over that pool table to take a shot every five minutes and flashing him smiles over her shoulder. She was a tease. A complete tease._

_Three months of random sex hadn’t put the desire out of him yet. He usually grew bore a lot more quickly but there was something about her, something he couldn’t quite pinpoint… Or maybe they were just very gifted at it. Falling in bed together had been an epiphany as far as their skating went. Mags could barely contain her glee nowadays. She had wanted a connection and there certainly was one now. On the ice or between sheets, they moved as one and sparks flew._

_“Just checking she doesn’t get in trouble.” he muttered defensively. “She’s more used to four stars restaurants than places like this.”_

_Chaff brought his beer to his lips, his dark eyes twinkling with amusement, absolutely not fooled. “I’ll be honest, buddy, I thought you would bail out of this after two days. I’m glad it worked out. You’re better. You’re more_ you _than I’ve seen you be in a while.”_

_“It’s not so bad.” he shrugged. “Costumes suck. I’ve drawn a line at frills. They want me out there, no frills, no pink.”_

_“Good rule.” Chaff chuckled before nodding to his ridiculous red cocktail. “No liquor too?”_

_“I’ve been keeping away from that.” he replied. “Not as hard as I thought it would be.” His eyes fell on Effie again and his face softened despite himself. She was good at distracting him when his demons haunted him so badly he needed an external source of relief. She was good at making his mind go blank and making him laugh. She was good at a lot of things. He snorted. “Can’t drink anyway. Trinket would have my balls on a plate.”_

_“Don’t think that’s where she likes them best.” his friend joked._

_Haymitch tossed him a mild glare without really knowing why, just annoyed that he made that sort of comments about her. “Careful.”_

_Chaff lifted his hands in a peaceful gesture, managing to keep a straight face despite his laughing eyes. “Didn’t mean to insult your girl.”_

_“Not my girl.” he grumbled. “Just my partner.”_

_“If that’s what you want to call it.” Chaff taunted, taking another sip of his beer._

_“It’s not like that.” he insisted._

_“Sure, it’s not.” his best friend laughed. “You’re taking her out, you’re keeping her purse for her, you’re staring at her like you want to marry her and give her half a dozen babies, you smile every time she looks at you, but, sure, it’s not like that.”_

_He rolled his eyes. “You’re crazy.”_

_“Sure, I am.” Chaff mocked. “So you don’t mind if I make a pass at her, then? ‘Cause she’s hot, your partner. Got an ass to damn a saint. If you’re not tipping that…”_

_“I said_ careful _.” he growled, downing his glass. It didn’t brought him the relief a glass of whiskey would have. “You do what you want but you treat her right or you get my fist in your face, got it?”_

_His best friend laughed again, patting his shoulder. “Calm down, buddy, I’m just having you on. Won’t try to steal your girl away. She wouldn’t even look at me anyway, she’s too busy watching you like she’s starved and you’re a juicy bone.”_

_He glanced at the pool table to find her done with her match. She stared at him as she slid the couple of notes she had won inside the bodice of her dress and it was one of the hottest things he had ever seen her do – so_ vulgar _for someone like her. He licked his lips and she grinned that slow perverse little grin she always gave him before taking him in his mouth. He kind of got lost in the moment._

_Chaff burst out laughing again._

_“Nothing’s happening at all.” his friend humored him. “You’re not having eye sex with her in a crowded room at all_ _and you’re not tight in your pants. At all.”_

_“Shut up.” he grumbled._

_She sauntered closer, absolutely aware, he was sure, of the effect she was having on him. “Gentlemen, who shall I crush at pool next?”_

_“No, thanks, love.” Chaff chuckled. “I’ve seen what you can do. Now, Haymitch… I think he really wants to…_ play with you. _”_

_He glared at his friend but hopped from the stool and followed her anyway. When she gave him those sort of  looks, there were very few places he wouldn’t have followed her to._

_“You’re having fun, sweetheart?” he asked, grabbing one of the sticks._

_“I will have more fun once I have beaten you at pool.” she challenged, just as Bon Jovi blared out of the speakers._

_“_ Darling, you give love a bad name.” _he snorted. “Could be your theme song.”_

_The way she handled that stick should have been outlawed and she did it on purpose. He wondered what her mother would have to say if she could have seen her daughter. Gone was the well-mannered lady, there was a temptress in her place. She was a minx._

_She hummed along to the song absentmindedly as she took her shot. “_ You’re a loaded gun _…” She flashed him a smile, brushing against him to walk around the table to find a better angle. “I don’t think_ I _am the loaded gun here…”_

_“Just wait for it.” he warned, itching to grab her around the waist and kiss her. He didn’t know exactly what was holding him back. They had no explicit rules. They just had… a thing that wasn’t public._

_He was so distracted by the way she moved and the flash of cleavage he could glimpse every time she bent in two to take a shot he completely forgot to focus on the game._

_“From here, it looked like she squashed you, buddy.” Chaff commented when they came back._

_“Take her up at pool and then we’ll talk.” he snorted. “Could always be a professional pool player if skating doesn’t work your way, sweetheart.”_

_Effie accepted the compliment with a smile, looping her arms around one of his and leaning against his side. She was very tactile and he didn’t really mind. They spent their day touching each other during training, it was second nature by now._

_They found a booth and they lingered in the bar a while longer. She took great joy in getting embarrassing stories about him out of Chaff and they spent a while trying to hook his friend up with a brunette that had caught his eyes. She was a better wing man than Haymitch was._

_Eventually, her head fell against his shoulder and he suggested they called it a night, knowing there was quite a drive back to the house. He watched her hug Chaff and he had a moment of realization._

_She was there to stay._

_He had treated the whole figure skating experience as something with a beginning and an end. All they had been talking about was Nationals. What would happen after that was left to a sort of limbo. Yes, they had talked about Olympic dreams and so on, but it was just talk, no definite plans._

_Partnerships often went on for years._

_Chaff shot him a knowing look before hugging him goodbye. “She’s good for you. Don’t screw this up.”_

_As they made their way out of the bar and to the car, he wondered what he had signed for. Then her hand slipped into his and he stopped wondering. He wasn’t really the hand holding type of guys but, then again, they did it all the time on the ice. It was almost a reflex to reach for her hand now. It fitted so well in his own it wasn’t even funny – how cliché as it sounded._

_He usually grumbled and ranted about the fancy cars with drivers Elindra insisted everyone in the house use – the Trinkets had standards, she liked to say – but right now he was glad for it. The back of the cars were always spacious and the tainted separation glass allowed them complete privacy._

_“I had fun tonight.” she declared, once the car got into gear. “Thank you for taking me with you.”_

_“Night’s not over yet.” he smirked, dropping on his knee in front of her, forcing her to spread her legs._

_“Haymitch.” she hissed, shooting an anxious look at the separation glass._

_“He won’t see anything.” he whispered, pressing kisses against her inner thighs._

_“But he will hear.” she argued._

_“We’ll have to be real quiet then. I know that’s hard for you.” he challenged. “Can you do quiet, Princess?” She narrowed her eyes at him but her irritated pout turned into a moan when he pressed his mouth between her legs. He chuckled but drew back sadly. “Maybe not.”_

_She bit on her bottom lip and tangled her fingers in his hair, nudging his head back down. “We will see who will be the quietest, won’t we? Just_ wait _your turn…”_

_The prospect of the delicious torture to come made him creative._

_If the look the driver shot him when he opened the car door one hour and a half later was to be believed, the glass might have been tainted but not soundproof and they hadn’t been as discreet as they should have been._

_It was probably a good thing Effie had fallen asleep half an hour earlier. He wasn’t sure she would have reacted well to that knowledge._

_He carried her to her room in the silent house without waking her, took off her heels, took his shirt and pants off and climbed into bed with her._

_He told himself he was too tired to go wandering in the gigantic house at night._

_He told himself it had nothing to do with liking the way she felt in his arms._

°o°

_“Whatever you do, please, behave.” Mags told them. “Our reputation is on the line. You keep that bad temper of yours in check, boy. And you, girl…” Their trainer looked at them and sighed. “Try to make him behave.”_

_Effie nodded as Haymitch sulked, grumbling under his breath about how he wasn’t the one who always snapped and bitched and  how unfair it was he was always the one getting scolded by Mags._

_“Will you stop?” she hissed as their trainer left them to talk to federation officials. “Stretch. It will be our turn to warm up soon.”_

_They were in the second group allowed to use the rink and, already, a few other couples were stretching, watching what was happening on the ice like hawks. Effie felt nervous like rarely ever before on a competition day. It would be their first time competing together, Haymitch’s first real time on the ice and_ everyone _was waiting for them to fail._

_They were a joke, that much had been made clear. The injured girl who never knew when to quit and the drunk hockey player._

_Even now, other skaters were pointing at them and laughing behind their hands, probably thinking themselves discreet. They seemed to forget she had two national titles and one bronze World medal to boost. Seneca wasn’t responsible for_ everything _._

_“Don’t mind them.” Haymitch told her. “Let them laugh. We’ll laugh when we win.”_

_“Today will be easy.” she answered, stretching her arms over her head and letting her head roll to warm her neck. “It is tomorrow that will be tricky.”_

_They knew the short program by heart even though Haymitch didn’t quite like the waltz aspect of it. They excelled at it. The difficulty level wasn’t that high. The free program now… It was quick and precise and it asked a lot of out them._

_“How’s the knee?” he asked, lowering his voice._

_“Well enough.” she replied in the same tone._

_Enobaria and Brutus passed them by without a look or a hello for her who had been competing alongside them for years. It was simply rude. But then again, nobody was really paying her any attention aside for the taunts and gibes._

_And when Seneca and Viola emerged from the locker rooms,_ they _were greeted with the respect one should always show to fellow skaters – except for Enobaria who snarled at them, always eager to crush the competition. As far as betting boards went, Enobaria and Brutus were the clear favorites and the only real danger to their national title would be Seneca and Viola._

_Effie was decided to create the surprise._

_She ignored them, focusing on Haymitch and the challenge ahead instead. “Do you want to try the Eagle here before we go on the ice? That’s the only risk factor in our short program I am anxious about…”_

_“If you mean_ the Goose _then, sure, sweetheart.” he teased. “Hop on.”_

_She had barely placed her socked clad foot against his hip when she felt_ him _coming closer. It was something only former partners could share. She slowly placed her foot back down and turned to face Seneca._

_“Hello.” he said, uncertain, looking from her to Haymitch who stood right behind her. She didn’t need to look to know he was glowering with a threatening expression. “I didn’t want to believe it when I heard you would be competing…”_

_“I promised you I would be, did I not?” she retorted._

_“You did.” Seneca granted with a small smile. “But… The doctors… How are you? Your knee?”_

_“I am right as rain, thank you for asking.” she declared, jutting her chin up in the air. “I am ready to win”_

“That _will never happen in a thousand years.” Viola cut in, not so subtly wrapping her arms around Seneca’s torso and propping her chin on his shoulder. “You_ are _going through with this, then? You are committed to toss your already limited career down the drain? You do realize it is sad to be remembered as the girl who stopped skating after an injury but it is even sadder to be remembered as the girl who brought a hockey player to a figure skating competition?”_

_“The bitch’s your replacement, right?” Haymitch sneered, placing a hand on her hip._

_“I would use the term_ improvement _, rather.” Viola replied with a wicked grin. “I was just what Seneca needed to get his career to the upper level, something he would never have been able to do with dear Euphemia. Why, we might even win an Olympic title next year.”_

_“Not if we win it first.” he snorted._

_“Don’t waste your breath on Viola Summercket.” Effie advised him. “She is not worth it.”_

_She tugged on his arm, intending to drag him further away to practice in peace. Haymitch resisted for a second and then nodded at her, lowering a pitying look on Seneca. “You’re a jerk for what you did to her and you’re a moron for letting her go.”_

_She supposed his defending her was touching but it annoyed her a little because she could hold her own. Still, it_ was _touching and instead of tugging on his arm, she took his hand. He squeezed it and let her steer him away._

_“Is it thrilling to sleep with a murderer, Euphemia?” Viola laughed at her back,_ too loud _._

_Haymitch’s past had arisen in the various press articles and interviews that had surrounded Effie’s return to competitions, it wasn’t a secret. But for it to be tossed at him like that…_

_Haymitch froze and Effie kept expecting him to turn back and attack Viola – and given the stares and the whispers, so did most of the people present there – but then his shoulders relaxed and he took a step forward. It was their locked hands that held him back because Effie was rooted to the spot. They stared at each other for a moment and she was sure he was about to tell her to let it go._

_It so happened that she didn’t_ want _to let it go._

_Instead, she dropped his hand, turned on her heels and marched on Viola so abruptly the other skaters stepped back and Seneca swiftly planted himself between the two of them._

_“Don’t do anything stupid.” Seneca warned her. “You’ll be disqualified.”_

_“Sweetheart, it’s fine.” Haymitch called behind her._

_Effie raised on tiptoes, pointing an accusing finger at Viola over Seneca’s shoulder. “Insult my partner again and you will regret it.”_

_“Okay, break it off.” Enobaria stepped in, pushing Effie back without any gentleness. “You’ve got a problem with her, you settle it on the ice.” The woman tossed Viola a sneer. “We all know she would never have been able to beat you before your injury anyway. Give me someone worth fighting for out there, Trinket, I like a challenge. And you…” She glared at Viola. “Don’t kick somebody when they’re down. Your mother didn’t teach you that?”_

_Effie huffed but Haymitch’s arm wrapped around her waist and forced her to walk away before it could get worse._

_“And Mags says_ I _’m the troublemaker…” he snorted in her ear. “That was kind of hot, though, sweetheart… Who knew you could catfight…”_

_“She shouldn’t have attacked you.” Effie hissed. “Oh, I_ do _hate her!”_

_“We’ll make her pay later.” he promised. “We’ll beat her and your stupid ex-boyfriend.”_

_There was a touch of possessiveness in his voice as he tossed a glare at Seneca over his shoulder. It made her smile. “Are you jealous?”_

_“Hardly.” he scoffed. “He’s bad in bed.”_

_“I never_ actually _said that.” she chuckled, shaking her head at his foolish antics. “You inferred.”_

_He lifted an eyebrow, a smirk playing on his lips. “Are you saying he’s better than me?”_

_Usually, she would have joked that off because she stood by the idea that a lady shouldn’t kiss and tell, but right then she was annoyed with Seneca for choosing Viola over her. She pressed a kiss to his cheek, mindful of their audience, and whispered in his ear. “Not even close.”_

_Men were peacocks._

_Haymitch strode around for the rest of the day and when it was time to compete, they were_ perfect _. Nobody had been expecting them to rank in the first ten. They ranked first, beating Viola and Seneca by a point – she didn’t even glance at them as they performed, staring at her red painted nails instead – and remained in the lead until Enobaria and Brutus performed and snatched the first place._

_She had wanted to create the surprise and she had succeeded. Nobody was talking about her injury or how finished she was anymore. It was all about how amazing it was Haymitch had been able to convert to figure skating so fast and how powerful they were together._

_She didn’t know where the_ Fire and Ice _nickname came from but it stuck._

_Everyone was waiting for their free program._

_Expectations were often hard to meet._

°O°

_Haymitch wasn’t in a habit of fidgeting when he was nervous but right then he kept shuffling from one foot to the other, wishing he had hockey skates on instead of figure skating ones. The plastic protections for the blades didn’t afford a lot of balance to his broad frame but then again most figure skaters were lean._

_Free programs looked more complicated than the short ones from the day before. It was obvious people had waited_ today _to show off. He simply wasn’t sure_ they _would cut it. Their routine was long, fast and, in his opinion, dangerous. Effie never hesitated before jumping in his arms or letting him carry her high above his head anymore but it didn’t mean_ he _didn’t always have this fraction of second of terror, sure something would go wrong and she would end up with her skull split open on the ice, his death count upped to four._

_Besides, there was the figure where he placed his foot at the small of her back. It was the very same figure that had resulted in him grazing her back once and the both of them tumbling into bed together for the first time. That had been three months earlier. He had never hurt her again during practice but he was still anxious about it._

_And there was always the possibility he simply wouldn’t be able to keep up._

_The men around him had been practicing the sport their whole life. Haymitch had just been at it for six months. They needed to rank either first or second to qualify for the World Championships and although they had managed to achieve runner-up to Enobaria and Brutus the previous day, there was no guaranties they would be able to renew the deed._

_“Stop doubting yourself.” Effie chided him, sliding her hand in his and giving him a gentle squeeze. “I trust you.”_

_She looked up at him in her silver dress and the black woolen sweater she had stolen from him earlier and he found himself smiling back at her, somehow soothed by her calm demeanor. There was no hesitation in her stance, not the slightest trace of mistrust or nerves. The previous day had boosted her confidence level to the extreme._

_Summercket and Crane were the first serious opponents to take the ice. Effie hadn’t watched their short program but she studied their free one like a hawk. When they were done, she clicked her tongue once._

_“No mistake.” she said and then hurried to squeeze his hand again. “But ours is more technical and certainly more original.”_

_He wasn’t sure who she was trying to convince._

_When it was their turn to go on the rink, she hugged him tight right before they took their place. It wasn’t an unusual thing to do. Partners hugged and kissed and touched all the time right before and after their performances but they were in front of hundreds of people and it made him a little uncomfortable. Still, he hugged back, feeling like a small kid rather than a twenty-four year old man._

_And yet the moment the music started he forgot his nerves. He forgot to feel ridiculous about the most_ danced _parts of their routine, he forgot to be scared, he forgot everything that wasn’t Effie. Their eyes always found each other somehow and it was a connection so deep he could feel it tugging at something in his belly._

_It was perfect._

_He was vaguely aware of the crowd ooohing and aaaaahing with every_ wow _or_ risk _factors. She was the only thing that existed in his world. The beat picked up and they were actually enjoying themselves. Yes, the steps were difficult but speed was Haymitch’s strength and the challenge was_ fun _._

_Effie was smiling so bright it was almost blinding._

_They were maybe twenty seconds away from the end of the routine when it happened. He didn’t know how or why, he thought he tripped her, they tumbled down on the ice. They picked themselves up and went on but Effie’s smile was now strained and once they finished and saluted the crowd, it was him who reached for her this time, absolutely dismayed._

_“I’m sorry, sweetheart.” he whispered in her ear. “I don’t know what happened… I…”_

_“It wasn’t you.” she offered, briefly coiling a hand around his nape before stepping away, a forced smile on her lips. “My knee gave in. I tripped you._ I _am sorry.”_

_He shook his head at her and wrapped his arm around her shoulders as they exited the rink without any hurry, slightly out of breath from their performance. “Don’t. We’ll get it next time.”_

_“Yes.” she answered, her voice strained. “Next time.”_

_Mags greeted them with a soft smile and comforting pats on their backs, insisting they had otherwise made no mistakes and they still had a shot to the podium at the very least._

_The notes weren’t as bad as Haymitch had thought they would be even though the fall cost them. They didn’t beat Crane and his partner but ranked second for now._

_They sat backstage on one of the couches as Enobaria and Brutus took their turn on the ice, watching the TV screen mounted in one corner and ignoring the other skaters sitting on various furniture or on the floor around the room. She had refused ice for her knee, not wanting to give away any weaknesses, but they were both a little too aware of Summercket cackling to Crane in the distance anyway._

_“I can’t deck her but I can punch_ him _.” he offered, his hand gently squeezing her thigh. She had borrowed his sweater again and he had to admit he sort of liked it. He had never seen the appeal of girls stealing his clothes before but there was something to seeing_ her _wear his stuff._

_“Don’t.” she sighed. “As soon as Enobaria and Brutus win, we will officially be jokers. It means we will all have to be a grand family during the World Championships. Let’s not make anything more tense than it already is.”_

_He frowned. “Thought we were out.”_

_“We are third. That make us the jokers.” she explained. “We will be going to Switzerland in case something happens to prevent one of the other pairs from competing.”_

_“So we’re_ not _out.” he said. “We’re just on the bench.”_

_“I suppose it is a way to look at things.” She leaned into his side, resting her head on his shoulder. She was disappointed, tired and, he suspected, in pain. “I am sorry. You were amazing out there. I wasn’t good enough. You deserved…”_

_“Shut up.” he growled. “You were great. It was an accident. Accidents happen.”_

_She looked up at him, propping her chin on his shoulder. “Anyone else would already be looking for another partner right now.”_

_“Anyone else’s stupid then. ‘Cause I’ve got the best there is.” he scoffed._

_A small smile played on her lips. “I like to think I have the best one too.”_

_“It’s all good then.” he smirked. “Cheer up, sweetheart, maybe one of them will break a leg and we’ll be on.”_

_Besides, there were still other competitions to attend. None as important as Nationals or the World Championships but the season wasn’t over yet. He was looking forward to the one in Paris. He had never been to Europe before._

°O°

_Haymitch’s tossing and turning woke her up but she didn’t immediately open her eyes, burrowing further down the bed instead. He had an annoying habit of rolling from one side to another when he couldn’t sleep and if her body had mostly grown used to it by now, there were still nights when he woke her up with his antics. It hadn’t been so long they had started sharing a bed after they had slept together._

_It’s when his elbow collided painfully against her back and he didn’t mutter any apology that she realized something was wrong. Still half-asleep, she listened to his distressed whimpering and she slowly sat up, rubbing her eyes._

_He wasn’t so much tossing and turning as thrashing, his features contorted and his hands batting away at invisible enemies._ Nightmare _. She had read somewhere it wasn’t good to wake someone up from a nightmare – or was that about somnambulism? – so instead of shaking him awake she whispered his name again and again, softly placing her hand on his naked shoulder not to startle him._

_He jolted awake all the same at her touch, heavily panting, his eyes darting around the room. She gently rubbed his shoulder until he covered her hand with his, probably to signal her he was back in the real world. He didn’t look at her though, he swung his legs off the bed and sat on the edge of the mattress for the longest time, his elbows on his thighs and his head in his hands. She could still hear him gulping for breath._

_She watched the strong muscles of his back flex with each deep breath for a moment, retraced the line of his spine with her eyes, itching to explore that path with her lips, and she eventually moved closer. She hesitated, her hand hovering over his shoulder blade, and finally pressed her mouth there instead. He flinched but the tension in his shoulders faded a bit so she did again, trying to offer some comfort._

_“Not going to ask?” he sneered, his voice slightly shaking from the powerful nightmare._

_“You will tell me if you want to.” she hummed._

_“I want a drink.” he spat. “You’re going to fuck that out of me?”_

_She pursed her lips but didn’t call him out on his crudeness as she would have done at any other time. He was trying to provoke her into a fight and she wouldn’t play that game. She placed her hand on his back, scraping her nails against his skin a little._

_“If that is what you want.” she answered simply. He was clearly disappointed by the lack of fight she was offering but she pressed her lips at the base of his nape before he could get up and storm off to find liquor. She let her tongue poke at his skin in a gentle tease. “Is that what you want me to do?”_

_His shiver had less to do with the nightmare than with his body liking what she was offering, she thought._

_“My family’s charred corpses.” he muttered. “Blood on the ice. The guy I killed… They all want me to burn for what I did to them.”_

_She closed her eyes and allowed her pain to show on her face because his back was turned and he would never know._

_“It was just a nightmare.” she whispered, sliding her hands from his back to his sides and then to his stomach. She kneeled behind him and curled up over his back, pressing her cheek between his shoulder blades._

_“Is it?” he scoffed. “Maybe Summercket has a point. You get a thrill out of fucking a killer?”_

_She didn’t pay his comment any mind. He was hurting. He always lashed out when he was hurting or stressed out._

_“You are not a killer…” she countered softly. It wasn’t the first time she had to remind him and she suspected it wouldn’t be the last._

_“Sure.” he scowled. “Maybe the ghosts have got a point. Maybe I deserve to burn alive…”_

_“Well, I would have something to say about_ that _.” she huffed. “I would like to see anyone try. Ghosts or not. None will go through me.”_

_“Oh, so you’ll protect me?” he snorted._

_“Human shield.” she declared. “You are my partner, are you not? You protect me and I protect you.” She nuzzled the space between his shoulder blades with her nose. “I won’t let anyone hurt you, Haymitch, I promise.”_

_He reached out behind him to wrap an arm around her waist and flopped down on his back, drawing her close. “Tiny woman in heels for a bodyguard… What can go wrong?”_

_“Hush, now.” she grinned. “I will chase the nightmares out of your mind.”_

_“And how do you plan to do that, sweetheart?” He tossed her an unconvinced glance._

_She placed her lips on his chest, slowly kissing her way down, pausing to nibble on the skin below his navel, until she reached the waistband of his pajama pants. His breath caught – but for the right reasons now._

_“I have my ways.” she teased, before tugging the pants down._

°o°

_“Airport.” she reminded him as he dropped on the plastic chair next to her, his arm automatically stretching behind her._

_“And then what?” he grumbled. “No one’s looking. I bet no one even know who we are.”_

_“You, perhaps. Me, it is another story.” she hummed, not even looking up from her magazine._

_She had bought a stack of them for the flight. Her huge sunglasses were propped on her head despite the fact he still thought it was ridiculous to use sunglasses at night. They were catching a red eye for Paris and he was already dreading the trip. He_ wanted _to see Paris but the eleven hours – or something – it would take to get there…_

_He looked around the waiting room again but the people surrounding them either truly didn’t know there was a figure skater champion amongst their midst or simply didn’t care – and to be fair_ he _wouldn’t have cared either if he had been them – Mags was nowhere in sight… He leaned in and nuzzled her neck._

_She giggled but tossed him a stern look. “Behave.”_

_“I want a drink.” he tried._

_“No, you don’t.” she retorted. “You just want an excuse to drag me into a dark corner and have your way with me and it is not happening here, Haymitch.”_

_He pouted a little, mainly because she had a point. This arrangement of theirs, this no strings attached affair, was less and less about sex. It had started with him sleeping in her bed after the night out with Chaff and his former hockey team. It had grown into something of a habit. He didn’t go back to his room, she didn’t go back to hers… They jumped on each other every chance they got…_

_It had been embarrassing at Nationals when Mags had sat them down and had hissed through clenched teeth and with cheeks slightly flushed that there should be no_ extra-sportive _activities during competitions. What they did before and after was their problem but for the two or three days when they were attending a competition, there would be no funny business._

_Effie had been so embarrassed she had looked no one in the eyes for the rest of the day._

_That hadn’t stopped them from sharing a bed during Nationals. He had never slept with a girl without_ sleeping with her _first. And he hadn’t even minded. He liked falling asleep with her in his arms, he liked the fruity smell of her shampoo and he liked it even more when she borrowed his clothes. So they had lost and finished third… He hadn’t minded holding her the night after that either. They had both been disappointed but, to her, it had been crushing. The fact that they would be sent to Switzerland as stand-ins more humiliating than not being sent at all. She had blamed herself and her knee for not holding up. She had suggested again that he should find himself another partner, one worthy of the work he had put into becoming a figure skater… He had said again he didn’t want another partner – in every sense of the word._

_“You’ve ever done it on a plane?” he asked, low enough that his voice wouldn’t carry to the family of four sitting on the other side of the lane. He hoped they weren’t taking the same flight they were because the two kids were screaming already and he wouldn’t be able to take eleven hours of_ that _._

_“No and I am not starting today.” she hummed._

_He sighed and dropped his head on her shoulder, slumping a little on his plastic chair. He was tired and grumpy and he wasn’t good at sitting still for so long without anything to engage his mind with._

_“Why don’t you do some crosswords?” she suggested, dropping a crosswords book on his lap. He opened his mouth to argue he didn’t have a pen but before he could make a sound she fished one from her handbag and handed it to him with a superior smile._

_“Show off.” he grumbled._

_“Whatever you say, dear.” she mocked._

_Boarding the plane was a nightmare and it didn’t get much better once it actually took off. First there was the little girl who had recognized Effie and was an absolute fan and didn’t want to let go of her ever again – she was gracious about it but Haymitch laughed at her all the same because he could tell she wasn’t big on small children with snot running down their nose. Then there was the guy from three rows down who pretended to be an ice skater aficionado only to flirt with her, it wasn’t subtle and it wasn’t even good flirting. Haymitch spent the whole time glowering right next to her but the guy didn’t notice or didn’t care – he thought Mags would choke to death, she muffled her laughter by pressing her scarf against her mouth and she laughed so hard tears rolled down her cheeks._

_It took almost forty-five minutes for Effie to get rid of him._

_Haymitch sulked for another hour despite her coaxing and eventually her irritated comments that he was behaving like a baby._

_“You’re going to do_ him _in the toilets?” he snarled in the heat of the argument._

_She narrowed her eyes at him. “Why, perhaps I will just do that then.”_

_She stood up and he instinctively grabbed her wrist, tugging her back down. “You go anywhere near him and I’m tossing him off the plane.”_

_“You are being a possessive jerk and I hate that.” she hissed. “I told him I wasn’t interested. What else do you want out of me?” He opened his mouth but she lowered her voice to a growl. “_ No _, I am not having sex with you on this plane.”_

_Mags was – not very convincingly – faking sleep and she tucked her chin in her scarf again, disguising her laughter in a cough._

_“You want some syrup maybe?” he taunted._

_“Manners.” Effie snapped. “_ Oh _… You_ infuriate _me!”_

_She grabbed one of her magazines and proceeded to ignore him. He was happy to sit there and sulk some more at first but it quickly grew boring. After twenty minutes, he poked her in the side. She glared at him. He glanced at Mags but she had finally fallen asleep – as had most of the people on the plane really._

_“I don’t like men drooling on you.” he mumbled with a shrug._

_It was as close to an apology as he was willing to utter._

_“Truly?_ I _enjoy it_ so much _…” she replied, her voice dripping with sarcasm._

_“Please.” he scoffed. “You love the attention. You_ live _for the attention.”_

_“I like the attention when they can take no for an answer and not waste almost an hour of my time.” she retorted. “I don’t understand why you react like a caveman when you know perfectly well I am not interested.”_

_His hand ended on her thigh, he wasn’t sure why._

_“How?” he asked._

_“How_ what, _now?” she sighed, flipping a page so hard there was a tearing sound._

_“How do I know you’re not interested?” he muttered, keeping his eyes riveted on the fashion picture on the glossy paper rather than on her. “It’s not like we said anything about us being… An_ us _.”_

_The magazine was slowly lowered to her lap and her hand tentatively covered his._

_“Isn’t it obvious?” she answered softly. He shrugged, running his thumb along the length of hers. She let out another long sigh. “You are an idiot. It is lucky for you you happen to be_ my _idiot.”_

_There was an insult in there but it made him smirk._

_Eventually, he ended up dozing off, his head rolling left and right. Effie snuggled against his side, their hands still trapped between her legs._

_When the plane landed, they weren’t really rested but that was why Mags had planned to arrive a day early._

_“Go get some more sleep.” she ordered as soon as they had registered into the hotel. “Relax, try to rest… Don’t do_ anything _tiring. I want you bright and early tomorrow.”_

_It was 6am in Colorado but 2pm in Paris. He knew if he went to bed now he would never adjust to the time difference, he wouldn’t sleep that night and he would be completely jetlagged the next day._

_His room was a nice room – that was the perks of traveling with a Trinket – and he tinkered around with the huge shower, washing the plane trip off his skin before getting dressed again. Effie’s room was down the hall and it took three rounds of knocking before she answered her door, still dripping wet from her own shower and clad in a white fluffy towel._

_“Come on, sweetheart, get dressed.” he smirked. “We’re sneaking out.”_

_She frowned. “Mags said nothing tiring.”_

_He rolled his eyes. “We’re in_ Paris _. We’re going exploring.”_

_“That is considered tiring.” she retorted, stepping aside to let him in. “But it does sound better than spending the whole day locked in here. Let me get dressed.”_

_“As long as I can watch…” he teased._

_She closed the bathroom door in his face and he chuckled, dropping on her bed and making himself comfortable. Getting dressed took her a while and when she emerged from the bathroom, in a tight cream skirt, a pink sweater, and a matching scarf wrapped around her hair, sunglasses firmly in place on her head again, he was torn between gaping and laughing._

_“You watched too many Audrey Hepburn movies.” he mocked, tugging on the scarf._

_She batted his hand away._ “ _You are clueless about_ fashion _.”_

_She said it as if it was a big crime._

_They sneaked around the hotel like children trying to escape their mother’s vigilance even though Mags was probably fast asleep and no one in the hotel actually cared about what they were doing. Still, he thought, trying not to get caught was part of the fun and they were breathless with laughter when they escaped the building._

_They wandered aimlessly for a while. The sun was poking from behind the clouds, locals seemed to think it was cold but to him who was used to Virginia’s weather, it was almost warm. His coat remained open, his woolen scarf loose around his neck. She asked a man for directions in a flawless French and he stared, impressed and a little aroused by the strange words she was uttering. Maybe they had a point when they said French was the language of love._

_She had been to Paris many times before, she explained and, once she got a sense of where they were, she grabbed his hand to drag him in the direction she wanted to take._

_She didn’t let go and he didn’t either._

_At some point, as they were strolling along the Seine, he wrapped his arm around her shoulders and she sneaked hers under his coat, around his waist, hooking her thumb in the waistband of his jeans. Her free hand came to rest on his, on her shoulder, and he entwined their fingers without thinking twice about it. They were like every other couple wandering around and there was an odd sort of kinship in that: they were young and together and everything was fine._

_They bickered over the stupidity of placing a lock on a bridge to symbolize love on the Pont des Arts – he thought it was idiotic, she thought it was romantic – and they ate some delicate pastries with a strange name as they neared the Louvre and paused to look at the glass pyramid. He decided it was hideous, she simply pouted and sprouted some things about modern art – that was how he discovered she knew quite a lot about architecture. He liked the_ Champs Elysées _less than she did but there was something amusing to watching her stare at every store. She was like a child at Christmas. They toured the Arc De Triomphe, waiting for the tourist crowd to part so they could get a glimpse of the Tomb of the Unknown Soldier. It was a strange concept to him, to come and honor the memory of an unknown guy, but the French were big on it, Effie explained._

_She took him to see the Pantheon and they got lost in the nearby streets, accidentally stumbling on an older side of Paris with narrowed alleys full of_ bistrots _– a hybrid between a bar and a restaurant – paved pedestrian streets and people who talked loud and laughed louder. It was full of smells. Food, flowers, the slight tinge of filth of every big city…_

_They were exhausted when they reached the Trocadero and the sky was starting to turn pinkish as it set. The wind tore the scarf away from her head and she escaped his arm with a squeal to run after it. She caught it just in front of the Eiffel tower and she laughed, stretching her arms wide and tossing her head back, her hair whipped around by the wind… She was beautiful._

_Her laughter had a hysterical hint to it. It was the red eye flight catching up probably, time to call it a day and go to sleep. Haymitch felt drunk. On exhaustion. On Paris. On life. On_ her _._

_She grabbed the lapels of his coat when he caught up with her and he kissed her without even having to think about it. It was the most natural thing to do. His fingers tangled in her hair, her hands on his chest, her heart beating so fast against his…_

_He didn’t even felt self-conscious about it._

_The place was packed with tourists taking pictures, kissing, walking hand in hand…_

_They were no different. Why would they be?_

_They were just another pair of lovers lost in Paris._

_And Paris…_

_Paris had some sort of magic._

°o°

_“We won, we won, we won…” she kept chanting like a mantra, clinging to his arm like a child._

_“Did we?” he smirked. “I didn’t realize…”_

_“Oh, hush, Haymitch.” she grinned. “It’s the first time we win a competition. Let me_ enjoy _.”_

_Coming to Paris had been the greatest idea Mags ever had and exactly what they needed after the disaster that had been Nationals. Not only had they shared a_ perfect _afternoon in the city but they had been simply astounding during the competition itself. They had been_ flawless _, more in synch than ever before…_

_“How’s the knee?” he asked._

_She waved that question away. There was the familiar tinge of pain but she was so euphoric she didn’t even feel it. She pressed herself against his arm as they walked toward the exit of the stadium, he adjusted his grip on both of their sport bags._

_“We should celebrate.” she declared. “Where do you want to go? My treat. There are a lot of nice restaurants. We could…”_

_“Honestly, sweetheart, my idea of a good celebration right now is a pizza and a beer in our room.” he sighed. “I’m still not used to this country_ fucking _time zone.”_

_She tried not to attach too much importance to that ‘our’. He had slept in her room ever since they had arrived in France._

_“Beer is out of the question but I will make a concession and order champagne.” she bargained and then she bit down on her bottom lip. “But pizza… I suppose you can have pizza, I will see what they have on the room service menu that fits my diet.”_

_“Screw your diet, we’re celebrating and you don’t need that anyway.” he grumbled, freeing his arm from her grip to wrap it around her shoulders, drawing her closer to his side. “Like you need to lose weight… You’re having pizza with me.”_

_They climbed into a taxi in silence. They were halfway to the hotel when she cleared her throat. “I never had pizza before.”_

_His head was resting against the window, eyes closed and his eyelids fluttered open to stare at her. “Ever?”_

_She felt stupid. He had a gift to make her feel stupid. She hated that._

_“Mother…” she started and he rolled his eyes._

_“Yeah, stop right there.” he scorned. “Should have known.”_

_His hand found her thigh long before they reached their hotel and his previous exhaustion seemed to be forgotten. His hands were everywhere he could get away with in public, his fingers coiling around her nape in frustration every time they were interrupted._

_He had his hand inside the bodice of her dress before she even had time to unlock the door to her room and she was torn between giggling and vocally disapproving this improper behavior. The bags were dropped near the door and kicked away to give them more space. She spared a thought for her faithful skates being so mistreated but she was soon distracted by his mouth and fingers. He pinned her against the wooden panel, pressing a forceful kiss against her lips. Mags would be furious if she ever found they had had sex when they were supposed to perform at the closing gala the next day._

_“I thought you wanted pizza?” she grinned, as he tugged at the zipper of her dress. The dress gave and he pulled it down, taking her panties with it._

_“I’m hungry for something else.” he smirked, dropping to his knees._

_She was sure people heard her cry out from the other end of the hotel corridor ten minutes later. She vowed to get her revenge and she tore the clothes off his body long before they even reached the bed a few feet away. They tumbled between the sheets in a midst of chuckles, moans and mindless whispers._

_Afterwards, he remained draped over her for the longest time until his stomach started rumbling and he finally consented to let her go so she could call room service. She ordered entirely too much for the both of them and he chided her for it like always when he thought she was wasting food._

_To her utter horror, he didn’t even get dressed when someone brought their order, he remained where he was on the bed, his bare ass poking from between the tangled sheets, leaving her to answer the door wearing his shirt. She blushed and babbled in French to the groom who was too professional to show anything more than a blank face. She tipped generously._

_They ate on the bed, like ruffians. Pizza, she decided, wasn’t her favorite dish but she could understand why he loved it so much. She had one slice and she left him the rest of it, tired of hearing him complain that American pizzas where better than this European_ thing _and that he needed to introduce her to a proper pizza as soon as they would be back in the States. She sat crossed-legged on the foot of the bed and spooned the chocolate mousse she had ordered, her eyes glued to the TV._

_Her mother would have had a heart attack if she had seen her, she thought._

_Haymitch was lying behind her, sprawled across the bed, still naked and obviously not bothered one bit by it, his hand was under the shirt she had borrowed, tracing silly patterns on the small of her back._

_“You’re watching this like you haven’t seen it fifty times.” he teased._

_“I love_ Casablanca _.” she answered distractedly._

_“You love_ all _old movies.” he argued._

_“Not_ all _.” she hummed. “But a lot of them.”_

_She watched Ingrid Bergman delivering her iconic line ‘Play it once, Sam. For old time’s sake’ and she sighed, glancing down at him. He wasn’t looking at the TV, he was studying her, his fingers still running on her skin under the shirt. She leaned in and he immediately craned his neck to meet her halfway. It wasn’t a hurried sort of kiss, it was sweet and slow and she laughed against his mouth when he tugged her down. She caught herself on her hand and grinned._

_“We will always have Paris.” she said._

_He made a face. “Don’t quote this movie to me. It’s_ shit _. I hate this movie.”_

_“Language.” she chided him, shifting to find a more comfortable position lying next to him on the bed. “_ How _can you hate this movie? It is a masterpiece.”_

_He brushed her hair away from her face and snorted._

_“It’s_ shit _.” he insisted. “Bogart’s an idiot. He’s got the perfect girl and he lets her go with some shitty line about Paris? Here’s looking at you, kid –_ my ass _.”_

_He leaned in to steal another kiss but she drew back a little. “You are completely missing the point. He leaves her so she can have a chance at some sort of future. He leaves her so she can be_ happy _. It is so selfless… It is the greatest proof of love you can find! He loves her so much he lets her go…”_

_He rolled his eyes. “He’s an_ idiot _. You love a girl, you fight for her, you don’t let her go.” He ducked his head to nip at the delicate skin of her jaw. “_ I’ _m never letting_ you _go.”_

_He froze._

_You could have heard a pin drop._

_He didn’t move, not an inch. His face was angled down from hers, she could feel his breath rolling on her skin, one of his hand was still under the shirt pressed against her back, the other was on her arm._

_Her mind went in overdrive for a second, wild with the implications. Her heart was racing fast in her chest. And then, in a heartbeat, her panic was over. She was calm,_ serene _._

_“Well…” she said. “I am glad you would not be a good Bogart because I would be a_ terrible _Bergman.” He looked up at her, his grey eyes guarded and almost uncertain. She smiled and brushed her fingertips against his cheek, relishing in the familiar hitch of his stubble. “I would_ never _let you get rid of me so easily._ _I love you too much for that.”_

_The words were easy to utter but obviously they weren’t so easy to hear. His eyes widened a little and she was certain, for a second, that he would bolt from the bed and flee the room – she imagined him running through the hotel corridors stark naked and she had to bit her bottom lip because the idea was ridiculous. His hand travelled up her arm and to her neck, his touch almost ghost-like. He was firmer when he coiled his hand around her nape._

_Their lips brushed together once, twice… Her breath was caught in her throat, she felt drunk and in love and…_

_“I’m never letting you go.” he promised against her mouth. Each of his words sent a thrill down her spine._

_It was his way to say_ I love you _._

_And she was loving every part of it._

°o°

_“Mags’ going to have a stroke if we don’t start warming up.” he snorted, his grey eyes coming to rest on their trainer who was leaning against the rail surrounding the rink._

_“What is the point?” Effie sighed._

_And since she was right, he didn’t add anything, happy to free glide slowly, leaving room for the other skaters – the ones who would actually compete in the 97 World Championships and who weren’t just there to play replacement. They weren’t even trying to pretend they were rehearsing. Switzerland was cold at this time of year and they hadn’t even changed in their training outfits. Haymitch was still wearing his jeans and his navy blue hoodie and she was still in her white slacks and red sweater, her blond hair loose on her shoulders. At some point she had decided it was too freezing for her and she had placed her gloved hands in the back pockets of his jeans and they had been hugging-skating ever since. They were ignoring the looks people were tossing them. They weren’t the only partners wrapped around each other anyway._

_They were treating this competition a little like a joke. They were the stand-ins and they wouldn’t skate. Getting into their costumes, taking it seriously… It was asking a lot when Viola Summercket was cackling a few feet away, loud enough to be heard despite the general cacophony, and when the Careers were rehearsing lifts and twirls that made Haymitch’s head spin simply_ looking _at them._

_“You know…” Effie hummed, her lips stretching into one of those devious grins he loved so much. “There is a huge bathtub in my hotel room. I think it could fit three people.”_

_“If that’s your way of saying you want a threesome, I don’t share, sweetheart.” he snorted._

_“Even with the Russian brunette you’ve been eyeing since we have arrived?” she asked, lifting her eyebrows and failing to hide the tinge of annoyance in her voice._

_“She’s got nothing on you.” he assured. And_ looking _wasn’t_ cheating _. She had been eyeing the French skater too, he had noticed – although knowing her it might have to do with scouting the competition rather than any interest._

_“I’d rather think not.” she growled. “Because she won’t be sucking you off in my bathtub later.”_

_He hadn’t been expecting that and his eyes snapped back to her and her pleased little smile._

_“Effie…” he warned. They were in public and he was wearing jeans that weren’t so loose. It would be difficult to hide anything if she kept on that track – and he knew she_ could _keep on that track._

_“Yes?” she asked, all fake innocence._

_He found himself smirking. “Minx.”_

_“Why, only for you, darling.” she purred, clenching her hands in his pockets, very much groping him._

_He was trying to figure out if they could get away with spending the whole competition fooling around in one of the supply closets. “Now, you’re…”_

_Effie’s face suddenly morphed into horror and the sharp scream of pain swallowed the end of his sentence. It was followed by utter silence as everyone turned to look at the woman wriggling in pain on the ice._

_Haymitch stared with the rest of them as Viola Summercket remained lying on her back, clenching her shoulder, while Seneca Crane stood there, arms helplessly dangling at his sides._

_Enobaria was the first one to recover and she skated closer, skidding to her knees next to their teammate. Effie tore her hands away from his pockets and followed, kneeling on the other side of Viola. Brutus and Haymitch hovered nearby, a bit uncertain as to what they should do._

_“Don’t touch me, you bitch!” Viola spat. “It’s fine. I’m_ fine _.”_

_“You dropped her.” Effie accused, looking up at Seneca. “I saw it. You lifted her above your head but you didn’t have a proper grip. You_ dropped _her.”_

_“I… No!” Seneca protested. “She turned too early.”_

_“Doesn’t matter.” Enobaria declared, her face blank. “That shoulder’s dislocated.”_

_“What?” he blinked,_ finally _crouching next to his partner. “No, it’s not. We’re competing…”_

_“We are competing.” Viola vowed between clenched teeth, waving away the medical team carrying a stretcher. “I am winning this competition!”_

_“With a shoulder out of your socket?” Enobaria scoffed. “Doubt it. Karma’s a bitch like that.” She turned to Effie. “Looks like you and hockey boy are on, Trinket.”_

_Haymitch watched the medical team carry away Summercket, kicking and screaming, but only came back to Earth when he felt Effie’s fingers coiling around his wrist._

_“We need to change.” she hissed. “And warm up. And,_ oh my god, _Haymitch we are competing!”_

_Her eyes were made bluer by the excitement and he nodded numbly, following her lead, going through the motions._

_They exited the locker rooms at the same time. The corridor was empty. She coiled her hand at the back of his neck and drew him in a kiss that made him see stars._

_“If we win this, I will give you the best night of your life.” she vowed._

_He didn’t want just_ one _night – and wasn’t that a scary thought – but he kissed her back, deep and dirty like she liked best and tried not to fret too much about the waltz. He still hated the waltz despite the fact that the short program had served them well at Nationals._

_The waltz was all about technique as a short program always was and that was still not Haymitch’s strongest asset. He was nervous. He wasn’t mentally ready to perform. He was certain he was going to forget the steps or the count or worse that he wouldn’t remember how to grab her and that she would end in the hospital with Viola – and if she had to share a hospital room with Viola she might very well_ kill _him._

_He kept shuffling from one foot to the other as they waited for their turn backstage until she stopped going through the steps in a corner to wrap her arms around his torso. Again, they weren’t the only partners locked in a similar embrace around the room. Friends, lovers… It didn’t matter in those moments. Being partners was a special bond._

_“Don’t think about the technique.” she whispered to him, framing his face in her hands. “Don’t think_ at all _. Just look at me. Dance_ with _me. When we step on that rink, we will be alone. Just you and me. It is only about you and me.” She placed her hand on his chest, above his heart. “Don’t think. Just feel.”_

_Thinking only about her wasn’t hard to do. She was wearing red and he loved her in red. When they stepped on the ice, her eyes never left his and he was reminded of Paris, of how_ easy _everything had seemed there, of how her eyes had sparkled in the pale winter sun when she had spread her arms wide under the Eiffel Tower and had laughed, her hair whipping around in the wind, her pink scarf dangling from her fingers…_

_It honestly felt like a dream to Haymitch. He forgot the competition, he forgot the jury, the crowd and Mags who was biting down on her knuckle at the edge of the rink._

_Only Effie existed._

_Only_ them _._

_And it was perfect._

_They defied every odds and ranked first that day._

_The next day, despite Effie fretting about her knee, they nailed the free program down to a T. He even squeezed in the triple loop jump he had been working on and Mags had insisted wasn’t necessary in a pair skating performance._

_They won._

_It was surreal._

_The podium, the medal around his neck, Effie’s hand clutching his, the tears of happiness she couldn’t quite blink back, the white roses in her arms whose smell reminded him too much of his family’s funerals, the picture that the medias would use when they talked about them for the rest of their partnership…_

_They were World champions._

_Two days earlier they had been on the bench and now they were World champions._

_He would always think fondly about Switzerland, he decided later, when he lowered himself into the scalding water of her bathtub._

_They were World Champions._

_And she was his._

_And if he had anything to say about it, that would never end._

°o°

_The thrusts were lazy and yet it was enough for her to arch her back, a tiny whimper escaping her throat as he dropped kisses to her chest. It was early still, the bed was warm and they weren’t completely awake. It was the best way to start the day in her opinion._

_“What’s that smile for?” he hummed against her skin, sucking the soft flesh of her neck between his teeth._

_“We are World Champions.” she whispered._

_It was a thrill to say it out loud. Even a week after they victory, even if they were exhausted from all the interviews, photoshoots, official parties and red-eye flights… It was still a thrill. They were the 1997 pair figure skating World Champions and nobody could ever take that away from them._

_It was the first morning back in Aspen and it felt like they were slowly coming back to Earth. They would have to get up to go jogging soon if they didn’t want Mags to come and get them._

_He chuckled, hooking an arm around her leg to hit another angle, his other hand ghosting up her side before finding her breast. “You_ do _know how to boost a guy’s ego, don’t you, Princess?”_

_She bit on her bottom lip to swallow back a moan, grinning all the while like a maniac. “We are World Champions. Don’t act as if it doesn’t turn you on.”_

_He opened his mouth to answer but was cut off by a sharp knocking sound on her bedroom door. The handle rattled right after and they froze only to sigh in relief when the door didn’t bulge – she didn’t know which of them had remembered to lock it the previous night but she was grateful for it._

_“Euphemia, why is your door locked?” her mother’s shrill voice asked._

_Haymitch rolled his eyes and went back to lazily thrusting into her, making it hard for her to focus._

_“Euphemia! Open this door.” Elindra ordered._

_“I hate that woman.” he grumbled in her neck._

_“I can’t!” she called back, trying hard to keep her voice steady._

_“And why is that?” her mother asked. “It is absolutely improper to make your mother talk to a closed door.”_

_“I am naked.” she answered. It was the first thing that shot through her head and, granted, it wasn’t the smartest. Haymitch tossed her an incredulous look, clearly amused. She locked the leg he wasn’t holding around his hips, trying to keep him still, but it only resulted in deeper movements of his hips that had her digging her nails in his shoulder blades._

_“Why on Earth are you naked?” Elindra asked, almost horrified. “What are you doing?”_

_“Question is…_ Who _are you doing…” he snorted in her neck. His next thrust made her whimper and there was_ no way _her mother hadn’t heard that._

_“Stop it.” she hissed._

_“You think that’s easy?” he scoffed. “There’s no_ pause _button, sweetheart.”_

_“Euphemia!” her mother insisted, rattling the handle again. “I_ demand _to know what you are doing.”_

_“Waxing.” she replied._

_“Nice recovery.” he mocked in her ear._

_“Don’t you go to a salon for that?” Elindra sounded taken aback._

_“Yes.” Effie lied. “But I didn’t have time in a while now and… I will be downstairs in a few minutes.”_

_“I do not have time to wait. I am due at the airport.” her mother snapped. “Cover yourself and open this door.”_

_She looked at Haymitch and he made a face. “No way.”_

_“Go to the bathroom.” she whispered, pushing him off her. “I won’t be long, I promise.”_

_“People_ die _from blue balls, you know.” he grumbled, getting out of bed. “It’s_ a thing _.”_

_“No, it’s not.” she argued, pushing him toward the bathroom and climbing off her bed to wrap herself in her pink silk dressing gown. Her eyes surveyed the room, her suitcase had been abandoned open in the middle of the room, the white armchair next to the stone fireplace in the corner was covered with Haymitch’s clothes – because he couldn’t be tidy if his life depended on it – she hastily tossed everything in her suitcase and nudged it shut. More impatient knocks on the door again and she sighed in irritation, hurrying to open the window because she was certain her room smelt like sex. “I’m coming!”_

_“Lucky you.” Haymitch muttered._

_She pressed a kiss to his lips and pushed him back in the en-suite bathroom before shutting the door in his face._ Then _and then only did she unlock the door. She made an effort to try and block her mother’s path but Elindra was determined to step in, it seemed. Her blue eyes toured the room much like Effie’s had done, stopping first on the open window and then on the unmade bed._

_There was a wet spot on the red sheets and Effie quickly pulled back the comforter. “I spilled some wax.”_

_The fact that there was no wax or used bands was just as incriminating as the flush on her cheeks._

_The sliding doors to her dressing room were open and she glimpsed her reflection in the floor-to-ceiling mirror. Her hair was in complete disarray, her eyes were too bright, there were reddish spots on her throat and collarbone from when he had nibble on her skin, her robe was loose and she looked like she had been thoroughly debauched._

_“If he went through that window, I hope he had the good taste of breaking his neck.” Elindra snorted._

_Effie turned crimson and adjusted the belt of her robe. “I do not know what you mean, Mother.”_

_Elindra let out an irritated huff. “Euphemia, the season will be over before you know it now. Mags will be leaving for the coast to see her family as usual. I expect you will take the first month of summer off for a holidays too?”_

_“I… Yes.” she answered, not having expected that line of questioning._

_The World Championships had marked an end to the competition season but there were still galas and shows where they had agreed to perform. It wouldn’t be time to think about holidays for a good three months still. She really wanted a trip in the sun this year. She was thinking Malibu. Or maybe somewhere a little less fashionable where she and Haymitch could be left alone in peace… A month together with no interruption seemed like heaven – assuming they didn’t strangle each other after ten minutes, that was. In any case, they hadn’t discussed it yet. Was it pushing it to even think they would go on holidays together when they had spent more than a year joined at the hip? They were…_ together _, that had been established but… Did that mean he wanted to spend his free time far from Aspen with her?_

_“Very well. That is good. You can use the time to reconnect with Seneca.” Elindra declared. “I will be happy to gift you two with a trip wherever you wish. It will be a reward for your good performance at the World Championships.”_

_“Good performance…” she repeated flatly. “I didn’t get an A on a school test, Mother, I won the…” She frowned. “What do you mean_ reconnect _with_ Seneca _?”_

_Her mother sighed like she was being difficult and brushed imaginary dust off the sleeve of her travel jacket. “I just got off the phone with him. He would be agreeable to taking you back.”_

_Effie blinked once, twice, and then took a deep breath. “How generous of_ him _to be_ agreeable _to taking_ me _back after_ I _won a world competition_ without _him. Truly, he is the most selfless of souls.”_

_Elindra pursed her lips, clearly not amused. “Sarcasm is the lowest form of wit, Euphemia. Your hockey player has a disastrous influence on you.”_

_Haymitch had been a breath of freedom in an otherwise constrained life and she would make no apologies for how it had changed her._

_“I have no interest in Seneca.” she clarified. “I already have a partner.”_

_“You_ can’t _mean you intend to pursue this folly next season.” her mother scoffed. “This was a nice publicity stunt, I will grant you that. And he did tolerably well, better than I expected, I will_ also _grant you that. But the Olympic Games are next year and if your truly want a shot at them you will need an experienced partner.”_

_“You mean a partner who won’t stand by me whatever happens?” she hissed. “Do you know why Seneca is so willing to have me back? Because Viola is hurt. He does have a trend of jumping partners when they get injured. He is_ responsible _for her injury, Mother. He won’t find another partner anytime soon._ I _certainly won’t risk my neck when I am certain Haymitch will_ never _drop me.”_

_“He will also never be good enough to get you a gold medal at the Olympics.” Elindra hissed. “Or is that little dream of yours already forgotten? Do you know what will happen if you keep on being stubborn? You might manage to qualify for the Games on a struck of luck but you won’t win. You will try again in four years and you won’t win either because you will have missed your shot.”_

_“Haymitch and I are a formidable team.” she retorted, walking to the window to close it. She slammed it shut without meaning too._

_“You will never achieve your dreams with that boy.” her mother warned. “Be sensible. We will be generous with him. A five numbers check should soften the break-up. I will go up to six if you insist.”_

_She almost laughed. “You don’t know Haymitch very well, Mother. He won’t take your money.”_

_“Oh, so you think he will pick you over a fortune…” Elindra chuckled. “How_ naive _of you, darling. Let me impart some wisdom on you… He is a_ thug _. He doesn’t belong in our world, Seneca does.”_

_“Seneca will never_ ever _put a finger on me again. I do not trust him. I do not love him.” she replied. “And, frankly, he is a rather boring man.”_

_Compared to Haymitch, all the men she was used to were boring. Haymitch always surprised her – not always in a good way but that was beside the point._

_“Of course, he is. Men of our standing often are.” Elindra agreed easily with a wave of her rings clad hand. “That is why we invented adultery, Euphemia. Allow me to speak plainly: thugs are good in a bedroom but they should always know their place.”_

_“Mother!” she gasped, utterly shocked._

_“I have no doubt your hockey player has a nice set of particular skills no doubt honed through repeated encounters with tramps in shady bars…” her mother continued. “But do not mistake this for love. Men do not love women. They love their wealth, their beauty, and sometimes their power. He sees you and he thinks he found a rich naïve girl who is ready to give it all to him. You are nothing more than a golden goose. He does_ not _love you.”_

_She stood shock still for a moment before shaking her head._

_“Listen to reason, Euphemia.” Elindra demanded. “Seneca won’t wait forever. And if you truly do not want him then decide on another partner fast.”_

_“There is no decision to make.” she snapped. “I will stay with Haymitch.”_

_Her mother pursed her lips, narrowing her eyes in anger. “Do not come crying to me once you fail, then. Your chances of winning a gold medal were already small but with him they are slim to none.”_

_Elindra turned around and left without a goodbye even though she wouldn’t be home for two months. Effie closed the door and locked it again, resting her forehead against the wooden frame, drawing out a deep breath._

_“When she talks to you like that, I want to squeeze her neck until her head pops.”_

_The protective growl in his voice made her smile despite everything and she turned around, not surprised to find him already there, ready to hug her. He was still hard but he didn’t try to rip the gown off her to directly go back to business – something Seneca would probably have done after telling her she was being unreasonable and should listen to her mother who was not only a champion but an experienced one at that. He simply held her instead, letting her bury her face in the crook of his neck._

_“Would you ever take money over me?” she whispered._

_“Do you need to ask?” he scorned. “I don’t care about your money. I don’t care about_ her _money. We make enough of that on our own now, Effie. We could leave. We’ve got sponsors… Sure, you won’t have maids or a private rink… But we could live well on what we make. I’ve got the house in Virginia… It’s old but it’s mine… We could work something out. Or we can sell it and buy something else… Whatever you want…”_

_It was tempting. Very tempting. But she knew leaving would be more complicated than that._

_She tightened her hold on his torso, looking up at him with a small smile. “I love you.”_

_The novelty of saying that aloud hadn’t faded yet and she relished it, there were power in those words and vulnerability too. It required trust. A trust she believed he would never abuse._

_She raised on tiptoe and gently pressed her mouth against his, slowly deepening the kiss until he was fisting the silk of the dressing gown. He drew back long enough to lick his lips and to shoot her an apologizing look. “I get you’re upset but with or without you I really need to finish so…”_

_“I am not upset.” she countered, nudging him in the direction of the bed. “And_ we _will finish.”_

_“Okay then, sweetheart.” he smirked. “I heard thugs like me are good for only one thing anyway…”_

_The back of his knees hit the edge of the mattress and he fell backwards._

_“My mother certainly does say a lot of idiotic things.” she granted, slipping off the robe to straddle his hips. “But for once she has a point.”_

_“So_ that’s _the only thing I’m good at?” he teased, knowing she didn’t mean it._ _“What am I? Your fuck toy?”_

_“Well, it depends… You do like to call me a goose… Am I your golden goose?” she asked, eyebrows lifted high in mocked interrogation. “Do not lie to me. I have the means to make you talk.”_

_Her little intimidation act dissolved into giggles when he grabbed her around the waist and rolled her under him._

_It was only later once they were both panting, pressed tight against each other, sweaty but fully satisfied, that he nuzzled her neck. “If golden geese were about happiness and not money… You’d be my golden goose alright. You’re certainly silly enough to play the part.”_

_She chuckled and dropped a kiss on his nose. “You have such convoluted ways of saying you love me…”_

°O°

_She smiled when she heard the shower’s door opening and closing. She loved that morning ritual. She always got up a second before the alarm clock started ringing except for those times when Haymitch managed to hold her back, she was usually in the shower for five minutes when she heard the clock ring for a second time, five more minutes after that he usually joined her under the warm water._

_That morning was no exception. He brushed her wet hair aside and pressed a kiss on her shoulder._

_“Good morning.” She grinned._

_“’Morning.” He answered sleepily, his lips trailing up the side of her neck. She tilted her head to give him better access, her skin itched where his stubble rubbed against her skin. “Got something for you.”_

_“Yes, I can feel it.” she laughed. His erection was poking at the small of her back._

_“Okay. I’ve got two things for you then.” he chuckled against her shoulder, his hands roaming on the front of her body._

_“A gift!” she exclaimed. “Why, it is a day for surprises…”_

_Haymitch wasn’t_ huge _on big gestures. They had been together for a while now but she could count on one hand the number of times he had given her anything resembling a gift. But when he did, it was always sweet. It was never the expensive flowers Seneca sometimes ordered for her, or earrings, necklaces and haute couture dresses… But sometimes, he picked up a wild flower in the woods on their jog or he would declare they were having a movie night – she secretly called them date nights but he had bristled at the term the only time she had used it so she kept it to herself – and they always ended up eating things her mother would have killed her for. She laughed a lot with Haymitch. Of course, he infuriated her on a daily basis and they shouted at each other more often than not but having him in the house had made it a happy place. It didn’t feel like just an empty house anymore. It felt like a home._

_“It’s your birthday.” he muttered, almost reproachfully._

_“You actually remembered.” she hummed, reaching behind her to coil a hand around his nape. “I am impressed.” He was not big on dates and important events either. “Unfortunately, we do not have time for this now, Haymitch… I need to wash my hair and then we have to go for a run…”_

_“We’re on holidays.” he retorted, his hand slipping between her legs. “Mags’ already gone.”_

_She leaned against his chest by reflex, her eyes fluttering closed. “Not yet.” she countered. She had rented a villa on the coast. After the 97 World Championships, they needed to get_ away _for a while. They needed to regroup and to escape the media attention that was becoming suffocating. They also needed to get away from Aspen and from her mother who kept dropping hints about her finding another partner… They would be leaving in two days and she hoped it would go well, she hoped they weren’t going for too much too fast… “We will go running on holidays too. Next year is an Olympic year. We cannot go soft.”_

_“One thing I’m never gonna be with you is soft.” he snorted, grabbing her hips to draw her against him, to make her_ feel _just how_ not soft _he was._

_“We will go running on holidays.” she repeated._

_“Not at six am.” he tempered._

_“Not at six am.” she granted, turning around to wrap her arms around his neck. “I can enjoy a lie-in too, you know.”_

_His grey eyes twinkled with amusement. “No you can’t. But I’ll find ways to keep you in bed.”_

_“You will have to be creative.” she challenged._

_“I’ll be creative.” he promised. “Now shut it, sweetheart. Let me give you your first gift…”_

_It was very late by the time they got out of the shower, he had insisted on helping with the shampoo and the body gel and they had had sex another time. The whole schedule was disrupted but she couldn’t quite convince herself to be angry about it, not when they tumbled on the bed as soon as they were out of the bathroom, kissing and touching again because they couldn’t help themselves. Lounging in bed all day was tempting but that was what holidays were for and they weren’t on holidays yet. Eventually, she convinced him they should get dressed. He was always quicker about that than she was and he disappeared for a while – probably to his room – while she finished getting ready._

_She was sitting on her bed, lacing her running shoes on when he came back and tossed something clumsily wrapped in a glittery paper on the sheets next to her._

_“Happy birthday.” he muttered, his eyes avoiding hers._

_She opened it slowly, with a carefulness that annoyed him, she could tell. He was the kind to tear wrapping paper to get to the present but she wasn’t. She found a red velvet box inside and she frowned. “You bought me jewelry…”_

_He shuffled awkwardly on his feet, slightly defensive. “It’s nothing big.”_

_She begged to differ because he had bought her_ jewelry _and she was certain it was a turning point in their relationship. Something…_ important _. It_ felt _important. Jewelry_ lasted _._

_She opened the box and smiled when she found a thin silver charm bracelet inside. She actually chuckled when she spotted the obviously custom made charms: there were four skates, a goose, a dragon, a bottle and a medal._

_“I love it.” she declared, handing out her wrist. “Fasten it for me?”_

_He rolled his eyes and grumbled about how she was unable to do anything by herself but he sat next to her on the bed and did as she requested. She didn’t comment, she knew he was uncomfortable and it was his way of falling back on a more familiar ground._

_“The girl at the shop said you can add more charms later.” he mumbled._

_“It seems like you found the perfect gift.” she teased. “This should become a tradition. You can buy a new charm every year. This is a long term investment.”_

_“Chaff said I should have gone for lingerie.” he snorted. “Maybe he had a point.”_

_She straddled his lap, locking her arms around his neck, and shaking her wrist a little to get used to the bracelet’s weight. “But it is_ my _birthday. Lingerie would work better for_ your _birthday…”_

_“Shame.” he smirked. “I saw some kinky things looking for a gift for you.”_

_“Kinky things are always welcomed.” she grinned. “You should never hesitate to buy me kinky lingerie.”_

_She leaned in to kiss him because that bracelet required proper thanks. She wasn’t exactly surprised when the kiss grew heated or when he ended up flopping on his back, bringing her with him. She kept kissing him, allowing him his wandering hands, accepting they would never go running that day._

_She did love her bracelet and she did love that it was something they could add on._

_It felt like a promise of a future._

°O°

_Effie loved the sun._

_She spent her time locked in a freezing rink and she abhorred being cold – on that front, getting involved with Haymitch had been a blessing, there was no getting cold with him in a bed, he was like a portative heater – so she soaked the heat on her skin, behind her sunglasses, sprawled on one of the wooden lounge chairs on the deck. Her mother had disapproved the trip naturally, as well as the company she intended to keep, but Effie had rented the villa on the coast nonetheless. It had a private access to the beach and it was all Haymitch and she needed to recover from the 97 World Championships and the end of the season before they started training for the next one. The next one would be an Olympic year and she was decided not to miss her chance._

_Water trickled on her and she jerked, extending a hand to protect herself and glaring above her sunglasses at the man dripping water everywhere._

_“Sorry, love.” Chaff taunted even though he had obviously done it on purpose._

_Chaff had arrived five days earlier and would spent the remaining of the week with them. It was her idea to invite him. He was Haymitch’s best friend, they didn’t manage to see each other a lot throughout the year and she knew he missed him. Aside for his couth behavior, crude jokes and pranks, she quite liked Chaff. He and Haymitch tended to act like children, leaving her to shake her head at them from the sidelines, but it was also fun when they all went out together and Chaff asked her to be his wing man because Haymitch was helpless at it. Her only real trouble with him was that his hands tended to wander when he was drunk – although Haymitch must have had a talk with him about that, she thought, because he had done it once in his line of sight and had never so much as touched her again._

_“How is the water?” she asked._

_“Wet.” Chaff snorted, grabbing the towel he had abandoned on one of the chairs. He dabbed at his face a few times before dropping on the lounge chair next to her. “Where’s Haymitch?”_

_“Cooking.” she hummed, stretching a little._

_“Cooking.” he repeated dubiously._

_“He grumbles but he is good at it.” she grinned. “And there might have been an unfortunate incident on our first day here… I am forbidden from using the kitchen. He doesn’t enjoy having to put out a fire.”_

_Chaff’s laughter boomed out. He was always so carefree… It always startled her a little. It was far from the world she was used to where it was all strained polite smiles and faked little laughs. Best friends stabbed you in the back in her world but Haymitch’s world was very different and she was enjoying the change of scenery. She wasn’t sure she and Chaff would have gotten along well in other circumstances but she was Haymitch’s girlfriend and he was his best friend and they were probably the two people he loved best in the world, not being friends wasn’t an option for them._

_“Never seen him like this.” he commented._

_“Cooking?” she wondered, absentmindedly reaching for the sunscreen and rubbing some on her nose where she could feel the sunburn developing. She pushed her sunglasses back on her head to look at him curiously. He had reclined in his chair and was watching her with a pensive look on his face._

_“Happy.” he corrected. “Carefree. I’ve known Haymitch a while… He was always worrying about his mom and his brother… After the accident…” Chaff shrugged. “I’ll be honest, love, I was scared he was going to do something_ real _stupid.”_

_She averted her eyes and looked at the ocean stretching in the distance, distractedly playing with the silver charm bracelet around her wrist. “He rarely talks about them. He has nightmares sometimes but… He doesn’t talk about them. I think he is better now than he was a year ago, though. He doesn’t struggle so much with alcohol, for one thing.”_

_She felt a little guilty talking about him behind his back, even if Chaff was his best friend. It wasn’t about gossiping though. It was about… reassurances, she thought._

_“That’s ‘cause he has you.” he said slowly. “Never saw him so serious about a girl before either.”_

_“Oh…” she said, feeling herself blush a little. “Well… We are partners. It makes everything more intense.”_

_“I bet.” he taunted._

_She pursed her lips and narrowed her eyes at him, a little self-conscious in her red bikini. “Would you take your mind out of the gutter?”_

_“Hard to when you’re pawing at each other every chance you get.” he smirked. “I’m glad though. You’re good for him. He needed someone like you.”_

_“I think I needed someone like him too.” she admitted softly._

_“Yeah, the stick in your ass needed kicking.” he chortled but his voice soon turned grave. “You’re serious about this though, right? It’s not just a spoiled little girl’s adventure in the real world? ‘Cause if you’re playing with him…”_

_“I am not!” she huffed. “And I will thank you not to make these sorts of assumptions about me.”_

_“Hold your horse, love, I’m just looking out for him.” Chaff countered. “I’m the only family he’s got left and he’s so besotted with you I keep waiting for him to talk me into helping him find you a ring…”_

_“Preposterous.” she declared. “We are not there yet.”_

_“Aren’t you?” he scoffed. “’Cause it looks to me like you’re having your little experiment with married life right here, right now. He’s in love with you. Never saw him like that before. I guess you can ask him for the moon, he’ll find a way to get it for you. It’s hilarious to watch.”_

_She turned her head away. Were they having a little experiment in married life? The urge to get away from Aspen had been strong and she couldn’t claim she was used to living alone without staff or a cook or a driver but when they had talked about a vacation he had been adamant he didn’t want any of that. They fought a lot but, then again, they always fought. He liked to mock her and say she was like a child who could do nothing by herself – laundry, cooking, cleaning… It had taken some adjustment on her part and a lot of pointers from him and even then he always ended up doing almost everything after she had ranted for two hours about him being unhelpful. The bright side to not having staff around was the complete privacy, she didn’t have to put on airs or to pretend all the time – she never did that with Haymitch._

_“He isn’t the marrying kind.” she answered finally, pushing her sunglasses back on her nose._

_“Maybe not with anyone else.” Chaff agreed. “But, like I said… Never saw him so in love before.”_

_She knew Haymitch loved her. She had known since Paris and, perhaps, even before that. She kept her eyes averted anyway. He was always so reserved with his feelings, it felt wrong to discuss them with someone else._

_“I will go see if he needs help.” she declared._

_“You’ll smooch him, you mean.” he taunted. “It’s alright, love, I’ll stay here and pretend I don’t know you’re fooling around in the kitchen…”_

_They hadn’t fooled around_ only _in the kitchen but Chaff didn’t need to know that. She tossed the sunscreen on his chest when she walked past him. He might not get sunburn but too much sun wasn’t good for the skin. She also pretended hard he wasn’t checking her out as she retreated inside the house because it was a habit she wished he would lose._

_The kitchen was an open space that gave on the living-room. It was all chrome-plated surfaces, shiny silver and white cabinets… It looked modern and Effie loved it so naturally Haymitch hated it. He had barely reconciled with the room after he had discovered the counters were at hip levels and that they were useful for more things than just cooking._

_He glanced over his shoulder when he felt her approach, looking annoyed. “How come I’m the one stuck behind the stove?”_

_“Well, I did suggest soup but you said you wanted real food – which is ridiculous because soup_ is _real food, it is not my fault if you are always starving.” she pointed out, wrapping her arms around his torso and briefly burying her nose in his shoulder blades. His tee-shirt smelt like her because she had borrowed it the previous night and it made the possessive side of her personality purr in satisfaction. “What are you doing?”_

_“Pasta.” he grumbled. “If you wanted some fancy_ shit _, you should have ordered take out.”_

_She hummed and burrowed against his back, reaching around him from the wooden spoon he was using to stir the tomato sauce. “I like it when you cook.”_

_“Sure, you do. You like having slaves.” he taunted, batting her hand away from the spoon._

_She was cunning though and so she simply sneaked under his arm and reached for the spoon again. They battled for it for a second and it culminated in the spoon hitting her in the cheek. She winced at the feeling of hot tomato sauce spread on her skin but he chuckled, mocking her mercilessly._

_“It is not funny.” she hissed._

_“Oh, yeah, it is…” he taunted. “Hey, sweetheart, you’ve got something on your face…”_

_She pouted and folded her arms in front of her chest, not moving an inch when he drew her close to him and lowered his lips to her skin. He licked the sauce away and it_ really _shouldn’t have been as much a turn on as it was. When there was no more tomato sauce, his mouth wandered to her throat and she instinctively tilted her head to the side, feeling his fingers blindly searching for the knot of her bikini at her back._

_“Your best friend is right outside the door.” she warned._

_His hand stilled and he groaned in annoyance. “Why did we invite him again?”_

_“Because you love him, you miss him, and I think he fully intends to be your best man one day.” she grinned._

_“Why, sweetheart… Are you proposing?” he teased, dropping kisses against her skin._

_“Not yet.” she answered, very seriously. “I will wait for you to do it.”_

_He shook his head with some fondness. “Not the marrying type.”_

_“That is_ exactly _what I told him.” she triumphed. “He insists I am special.”_

_“Maybe you are, Princess.” he snorted, pressing a kiss against her lips. “Maybe you are…”_

°o°

_“We were_ amazing _!” she giggled as they stumbled inside the hotel room. “_ Suzanna _will never win us any awards but it was amazing. They loved us. And they were right to, we were perfect. Don’t you think they loved us?”_

_It had only be a show for a charity, no prizes and no competition but from all the skaters who had performed that night,_ they _were most certainly the ones who had gotten the biggest ovation and whom everyone had talked about. They were daring and bold and everyone loved watching them skate._

_Lately Effie was so happy she was afraid she might burst. The 98 World Championships had been_ easy, _it had been no surprise when they had struck gold even if the Russians siblings, Cashmere and Gloss, had given them a run for their money. And now her dream laid ahead, finally within reach, and she was confident they would win a gold medal at the Olympics. She trusted Haymitch to bring her there._

_“I think you should learn some humility.” he smirked, nudging the door shut with his foot, already getting rid of the tie she had forced around his neck after they had performed earlier. “Plutarch looked happy enough.”_

_“Why wouldn’t he be happy?” she retorted, unclasping her pearl necklace and tossing it on the closest table before turning around and locking her arms around his neck. He immediately wrapped his around her waist, his smirk deepening. “We charmed a lot of sponsors into giving money and in three months we will be in Japan. Can you believe it?” She grinned at the thought of the Games in Nagano. They had been training for this for two years,_ she _had been training for this_ her whole life _. They were ready. She_ knew _they were ready. “Aren’t you happy, Haymitch?”_

_He shook his head at her. “I’ll never get how you can speak so much. Don’t you ever get tired of the sound of your voice, sweetheart? Can’t you ever just shut up?”_

_His voice was teasing, his grey eyes sparkling with affection, and she grinned harder, lifting a challenging eyebrow. She jumped and locked her legs around his waist, he steadied her easily – it was a move they had perfected on the ice as well as outside the rink._

_“Make me.” she dared him, leaning in to capture his bottom lip between her teeth. She tugged on it slowly, barely noticing he was carrying her to the bed. He tossed her on it and she laughed._

_She felt drunk on happiness._

_She wriggled out of her cocktail dress as he shed the jacket of his suit and unbuttoned his shirt. He slipped off her heels and she took care of his pants. They were a well-oiled machine in all areas of their partnership. Some might have found it taxing but Effie was_ never _bored with him. She could never get enough of him. His skin, his lips, his hands, his body… Everything he had was hers and everything she had was his. She still felt the same thrill when she kissed him as she had the very first time. And when he touched her…_

_“Stop thinking.” he snorted, pressing hard kisses against her throat and down the valley of her breasts. “You’re always thinking too much.”_

_“That is because I need to think for_ both _of us.” she taunted. “You are never_ _thinking_ enough _.”_

_“I’m thinking this bra would look better on the floor.” he deadpanned, getting her underwear out of the way. “_ Fuck _, I’ve wanted you since that wink you gave me on the ice… Don’t turn me on when we’re skating, Princess. Not fair.”_

_“Please.” she scoffed. “You spend the whole time touching me, running your hands on me… How do you think it makes me feel?”_

_He chuckled, pressing his mouth against hers. “Hot and bothered. That’s the way I like you best.”_

_She would have gladly protested but his kisses made it impossible. She drowned in them and when he started to truly touch her, she drowned in bliss._

_Afterwards, when they were spooning under the blankets, listening to the torrential rain slamming against the hotel’s window, she couldn’t help a content sigh._

_“I want time to freeze.” she confessed._

_“Right now?” He pressed an open mouth kiss to her shoulder, his tongue poking at her skin._

_“Right now is perfect.” she declared. She was grinning so much lately her lips were hurting. “I never knew life could be so perfect. We’re twice World Champions, I lost count of how many trophies we got since we started and we are going to Japan to win a gold medal. We are young. We have our whole life ahead of us. And you and I are… in a very,_ very _good place right now.”_

_As far as intimacy went all they had shared for a while was angry sex but that had been a long time ago and now… It had shifted after Paris, morphed into_ this _and_ this _Effie really loved. Of course they argued all the time, bickered on a daily basis and had explosive fights that always left Mags sighing and shaking her head at them but they also tended to share a bed most nights even when they didn’t have sex, he supported and defended her when her mother was too vocal in her disapproval, he was there for her in ways Seneca had never been…_

_Seneca had always cowered in front of her mother and why not? Elindra Trinket_ was _a force to reckon with. She hadn’t shied away from telling Effie just what she thought of her getting into a partnership with a hockey player. She had called her daughter_ mad _amongst other things, but Effie had held on and she had been right. What she had found in Haymitch, she would never have found with anyone else._

_“I love you.” she whispered._

_It wasn’t the first time she said it, the words were familiar on her lips now. As usual he tensed but it had less to do with her having feelings for him than with ghosts haunting his mind. She didn’t expect an answer, he never gave one and she didn’t really needed him to. He was her partner, she knew him better than anyone else. She knew._

_His lips roamed on her neck, brushing the tender skin he had nibbled on earlier, sometimes kissing sometimes nuzzling. His stubble itched but she could never convince him to get a clean shave – and it was a fight she was happy to lose because she had grown to love his unkempt style._

_“Right now is pretty good.” he finally granted, his hand distractedly playing with the silver charm bracelet around her wrist._

_“Only ‘pretty good’?” she pouted, turning her head to peer at him over her shoulder._

_He chuckled and brushed her hair out of her face, bringing her closer, coiling his hand around her shoulder in such a way that his forearm was resting between her breasts. “You know what you mean to me, Effie. Don’t go fishing.”_

_“It would be nice to hear it sometimes…” she teased. “But I guess I will have to be content_ supposing _– without proof, sadly – that you are madly in love with me and that you wish to spend the rest of your life with me… Preferably with a few more gold medals in our trophy room.”_

_“What proof do you need?” he snorted. “A ring on your finger?”_

_Her heart suddenly started racing in her chest because she had intended it as a joke but his tone was serious underneath the usual layer of sarcasm._

_“Haymitch?” she hesitated._

_He was silent for a long moment and then pressed a kiss against her shoulder. “Let’s talk about this after Japan, alright?”_

_She turned around in his arms, placing a hand on his naked chest. “Yes.”_

_He frowned. She could see the guarded look in his eyes even in the semi-darkness. “Yes you want to talk about it after Japan or yes you want a ring?”_

_“Yes.” she repeated. “Yes to both.” She pushed on his chest until he fell flat on his back and then she straddled him. “But right now I want_ you _again.”_

_He smirked, his fingers running up her thighs to curl around her hipbones._

_“Why, sweetheart… Someone told me it’s rude to deny a lady…”_

°o°

_“What are you doing hiding out there?” Effie asked, slipping through the sliding doors leading to the balcony. “Have you had your share of socializing already?”_

_Haymitch remained stretched on one of the lounge chairs and stared at the night sky as he so often did – one of the only things he liked about the Aspen house was the clear sky watching opportunities – not even glancing at her._

_The party had been Elindra’s idea naturally. A few big sponsors, big names in the figure skating field, possible partners to replace him by whose hints Effie had thoroughly ignored all evening, some business people who may or may not be friends with Tadius – hard to say the man had fled to his office after half an hour – and a few “close” friends – although Haymitch and the Trinkets clearly didn’t have the same definition of the term._

_He hated the theatric aspect of it, the need to pretend to be someone else to impress or to sell something. Out there, they were on display. A product to be bought: Fire and Ice, World champions._

_In the last two years, he had grown used to that. There were parties and official events, cocktails and galas and meetings with fans… Publicity campaigns and photoshoots…_

_He brought his glass of whiskey to his lips and took a sip, ignoring her disapproving look just like he more generally ignored_ her _. He didn’t want to play that game. Not tonight._

_“Haymitch.” she frowned, folding her arms in front of her chest. The red dress wasn’t exactly made for the weather and she must have been cold outside. He loved that dress. He had bought it for her on a whim. “You are being rude.”_

_“Too_ fucking _bad.” he snorted._

_She pursed her lips and tilted her head to the side in annoyance. “What has gotten into you?”_

_He took another sip before answering, his voice cold and flat. “Maybe I’m tired of watching those fifty-something pigs grab your ass every time they think they can get away with it.”_

_“Oh.” she said softly, unfolding her arms to come and sit on the edge of his lounge chair. “Well, I am not enjoying it, you know.”_

_“Yeah, I know.” he granted. “Doesn’t mean I like it. And the dragon’s going to have an aneurism if I punch someone so… Let me cool down, sweetheart. Go back to your ass kissing.”_

_She enjoyed this sort of parties even if that meant some inevitable groping. She was queen of the bees._

_He didn’t get it._

_A crowded or not so crowded bar, some good music, a few drinks, and Chaff. That was his idea of a party. Maybe watching Effie kick someone’s ass at pool, preferably a guy twice her size who had thought she would be an easy prey.._

_“But I miss you.” she pouted._

_He finally looked at her. His eyes never shifted from hers as he downed his glass._

_“I’m going to beat the next one to a pulp.” he warned in a low growl._

_She sighed. “They_ are _disgusting men but… There is nothing I can do save making a scene and you know as I do that it is not an option.”_

_“Right.” he snarled “’Cause the dragon will spend two hours putting you down tomorrow instead of just one. She would whore you out if it helped her get what she wants.”_

_He hated Elindra. He hated her with a_ passion _._

_“I wish you wouldn’t talk about her like this.” she murmured sadly. “She loves me.”_

_“That’s not love.” he snapped. “_ I _…”_

_He stopped short and looked away but she placed her hand on his cheek, tossed a discreet glance to check nobody was lurking, and pressed a kiss on his lips._

_“I know.” she promised against his mouth. “I know. But_ they _don’t so they think it is acceptable.”_

_“So what?” he spat. “When I put a ring on your finger they’ll magically stop?” He scoffed. “Don’t be_ naïve _, sweetheart. They’ll keep on grabbing and groping and drooling all over you. You’re young and hot. What do you think they fantasize about when they jerk off? And what if_ some _of them stop because you’ve got a ring on? They stop ‘cause you_ belong _to me? Like the ring’s a_ fucking _cattle brand? How_ sick _is that?”_

_She made a face, clearly disapproving of his way of expressing his opinion on the matter, but amusement quickly replaced her annoyance and after another glance at the sliding doors, she inched her dress up to straddle his hips. The balcony gave to the back of the house and the party was taking place downstairs, guests rarely wandered upstairs but it was still a risk to take._

_“When you put a ring on my finger I will use the huge diamond to stab their hands.” she purred, deftly unbuttoning his shirt halfway, the charms of her silver bracelet sometimes getting caught in the buttons. “I will also remind anyone with wandering hands that my husband is a former hockey player who can probably bash their head open in a heartbeat. They don’t need to know you would not.”_

_He didn’t know when the engagement discussion had become a “when” and not an “if”. They had agreed they would talk about it_ after _the Olympic Games but it felt less and less like there was anything to discuss. He wanted her and he wanted her long term. He didn’t particularly need a wedding for that but if she wanted one, he would give her one._

_“But I would.” he sneered. “I_ will _if they don’t stop pawing at you.”_

_“I like you protective.” she hummed, pressing kisses against his neck, letting her fingers roam on the uncovered skin of his chest._

_“Don’t start something you won’t finish.” he warned._

_“Who says I won’t finish…” she smirked, pressing down on him on purpose._

_His hands shot to her hips, stopping her._

_“I don’t need to fuck you to know you’re mine.” he grumbled. “It’s not a jealousy thing.”_

_It was a ‘stop putting your dirty paws on girls thirty years younger like you’re entitled to it’ thing. It was a ‘she’s a person not a fuck toy doll’ thing. And,_ yeah _, maybe underneath there was a bit of possessiveness but was it so wrong when those people were treating her like a piece of meat?_

_“I know.” she granted, placing a hand on his chest, over his heart. She had a thing about that: feeling his heartbeat. “I suppose this is the price of being a famous athlete, of being a victor. They will paw at you and treat you like you are some sort of not-human being…”_

_She shifted so she was sitting on his lap instead of straddling him, leaning against his chest. He wrapped his arms around her, propping his chin on her heavily styled puffy hair. He didn’t like it when she looked so dolled up. To him, she was at her most beautiful at the end of a training day, when her eyes were bright, her cheeks red and her hair was all over the place._

_“We can always skip the party.” he suggested._

_“They will come hunt us down.” she replied mournfully._

_If they were lucky it would be Mags. If they were less lucky it would be Elindra._

_“Olympics are in two months.” he sighed. “When that’s done, I’m taking you away. We’ll take a holiday. Just you and me. Somewhere no one knows us and we can be left in peace.”_

_“Will that be a honeymoon?” she teased._

_“So eager to put a ring on my finger, Princess…”_

°O°

_Something ugly that felt a lot like jealousy was stirring in Haymitch’s chest, trying to claw its way out. He tapped his foot on the floor with annoyance, the plastic covered blade of his skate providing a soft soundtrack to his little seething party._

_He didn’t like watching Effie skate with someone else._

_All the more so if that someone was Brutus._

_He didn’t know who had this stupid idea of a US team common photo shoot for the Olympic Games but it was starting to grate on his nerves. He had grown used to those kinds of things but nobody had ever asked them to switch partners before, to prove there was an unity between the lot of them. They usually posed all together and they were done with it. But no… No… That photographer had brand new revolutionizing ideas consisting on making Effie skate with Brutus while he took picture after picture._

_“Stop fretting.” Enobaria sneered next to him. “He won’t break her. Not his style. You better watch your feet when it’s our turn though. That’s_ my _style.”_

_He hadn’t even_ thought _of that. Trickery and foul play wasn’t uncommon in that field. Brutus wouldn’t though. He was too much of a good guy for that. And he doubted Enobaria would either. There was no love lost between the four of them but they all played fair and they were all on friendly enough terms outside of the competition season. Winning by cheating wouldn’t have felt like winning._

_“Still bitter about Minneapolis?” he mocked._

_“Why?” she snorted. “Haven’t you looked at the betting boards?_ We’ _re favorites.”_

_“And we’re twice World Champions.” he replied. “We’ve got this.”_

_“Overconfident, are we?” she taunted._

_He was so busy glaring at the woman that he missed what happened on the rink. He saw Brutus tossing Effie like_ he _had done a thousand times from the corner of his eyes but it ended with a shriek and a crash. He was up and running before he even realized what was going on, he barely took the time to discard the blades’ protections before he jumped over the safety wall enclosing the rink._

_Brutus was kneeling next to her, apologizing profusely, the photographer was hovering nearby, asking if she needed him to call for help… And she was still sitting down. He crashed into Brutus, pushing him away from her and standing protectively in between them._

_“It was an accident, man!” Brutus swore, raising his two hands in front of him. “I’m sorry. I’m really…”_

_“I’m going to_ kill _you.” he growled._

_“I don’t know what happened!” Brutus insisted but Haymitch was already clenching his hands into fists and he would have pounced if Enobaria hadn’t swiftly glided in front of her partner._

_“What is it with you two and starting brawls on the ice?” the woman sneered. “It was an accident. Let it go.”_

_Suddenly there were arms around his waist and the familiar feeling of a chin propped between his shoulder blades. “It was an accident, Haymitch. I am fine. I just forgot he wouldn’t compensate for my knee like you do. It was my fault. Not his. Calm down. I am fine.”_

_He must have been a scary sight, he mused, because everyone was staring at him like he was about to snap and murder the whole room – not such a stretch given his history, he figured._

_“This_ fucking _experiment stops here.” he spat, pointing an accusing finger at the photographer. “She skates with_ me _. End of the story.” He turned to snarl at Brutus. “You stay away from my girl or you get my fist in your face, you get it?”_

_“Haymitch!_ Enough _!” Effie gasped. “I am_ so deeply _sorry, Brutus. It was my fault, absolutely_ my _fault.”_

_Annoyed at her, he scoffed and angrily skated in the direction of the locker room. As he was nearing the doorway, he turned to glide backwards, glaring at her. “Partner with him again and you can ask_ him _to take you to the Olympics, sweetheart.”_

_He didn’t even know why he was so furious when he stormed to the locker room. He had been afraid she had gotten hurt – and he didn’t even care about the competition, he simply couldn’t bear the thought of her being hurt in any way – and he had_ hated _watching Brutus putting his paws on her in a way that was_ his _prerogative. Skating with someone was intimate, private… It felt a lot like having a lover in a way, hands learned to grab and touch in a certain fashion, bodies moved together…_

_He dropped on the bench and angrily unlaced his skates. His fingers were shaking and he struggled to unknot them._

_He wasn’t surprised to feel her presence at the door but he ignored her, fighting to free his ankle from the skate._

_“You were out of line.” she declared. “It was nothing but an accident.”_

_“_ You _were out of line.” he retorted. “Why did you have to say yes to that guy for? We don’t switch partners.”_

_“And there I thought you were simply worried about me…” she huffed. “I should have known this was one of your caveman demonstrations of possessiveness.”_

_“I’m not…” he started to shout only to snap his jaw shut and focus back on his skate. “Whatever. Get out of my sight.”_

_When had she ever done what he asked her to? She strode closer and sat on the bench next to him, bending in two to bat his hands away. In three seconds flat she had the knots undone and he was free to take off the skates. And, of course, he didn’t do it because now that he was free to leave her behind he had lost the will._

_“Are you done having your temper tantrum?” she asked flatly._

_“I don’t like men touching you like that.” he growled. “And I don’t like you skating with someone else. You’re_ mine _.”_

_“Yes.” she stated. “I think you just announced that to the whole world. It is probably something of an open secret now anyway but I can assure you Enobaria and Brutus are not fooled in the slightest. As for that photographer…” She sighed. “Well, I suppose it won’t be the worst rumor. I fell and you freaked out. That will explain your behavior even if you were unforgivably rude.”_

_“What difference does it make?” he grumbled. “Everyone will know after the Games anyway.”_

_“Will they?” She lifted her eyebrows. “Did we make a decision to come out publicly? Did I miss it?”_

_He rolled his eyes. They had talked about getting engaged a few times. He wasn’t fooling himself into thinking they could keep_ that _from the public. If anything the dragon’s screams of outrage alone would alert journalists in a fifty miles radius._

_“So not the point.” he muttered._

_“Why are you being jealous when you know for a fact I am not interested in Brutus?” she snapped. “_ That _is the point. He was never improper once, he was very careful about where he put his hands and even if he hadn’t been, don’t you think I would have called him out on it? Don’t you trust me at all?”_

_“Of course I trust you.” he retorted. “I just don’t like it.”_

_“But…” she argued._

_“Look, I don’t like it, okay?” he cut her off. “Maybe I’ll go back out there and skate with Enobaria and we’ll see how you feel about it, alright? It’s just…_ not right _. I’m your partner. It’s supposed to be you and me._ Together _.”_

_She searched his eyes for the longest time and eventually placed a hand on his cheek._

_“It is.” she promised. “Together. We are a team.”_

_“We’re more than a team.” he mumbled._

_“Well,_ that _goes without saying.” she grinned, leaning in to press a kiss on his lips. “You are a very silly man, Haymitch. You are the only partner I will have until the end of my days, on the ice and outside of it. I know this with every fiber of my being.”_

_He snorted. “Now,_ you _’re being silly. Watched too many flick chicks again, have you?”_

_She shook her head but the smile never left her mouth._

_“Just wait and see.” she promised._

°o°

Haymitch hated New York.

It was too loud, too fast and too crowded.

As much as he hated living in the mansion when Elindra was _in residence_ , he couldn’t deny he liked Aspen better despite the numerous tourists. The Trinket estate was surrounded by enough wilderness that he didn’t feel trapped in a metal jungle of building, pollution and hysterical people.

Time Square was _the worst_.

He was sitting outside the Starbucks, a tall paper cup of coffee held tight in both of his leather gloved hands in a desperate attempt at warming them, and he watched people walk by. It wasn’t difficult to differentiate New Yorkers from tourists. Tourists stopped every three steps to take pictures while New Yorkers rushed as if the devil was chasing them. 

Someone clapped his shoulder and Haymitch felt the strength of the hit right down to his bone through the thick wool of his coat. He glared at his friend with annoyance but couldn’t help a small smile when Chaff dropped on the free chair on the opposite side of the table. At least, it was cold enough that not a lot of people were sitting outside. 

Haymitch pushed the second cup of coffee he had bought in his direction. The Starbucks was packed and there was no time to wait in line for Chaff’s order. They were on a clock here – not that his best friend knew that yet.

“Where’s your other half?” Chaff asked as a greeting, straining his neck to glance inside the shop.

“Shopping somewhere with some of the other girls.” he shrugged. He thought Enobaria had tagged along and _that_ promised for some fun – and probably irritated – anecdotes later that night. As well as some modeling, she liked to show him everything she bought even if he could never care less. Although… She had also promised to hit _Victoria’s secrets_ and _that_ could be fun.

Chaff’s eyebrows shot up before furrowing together. He leaned a little over the table not to have to shout to be heard. “There’s no trouble brewing with your girl, right?”

Haymitch rolled his eyes. “We’re not joined at the hips every second of the day.”

Chaff flashed him a slightly mocking smile and took a sip of his coffee, relaxing back in his chair. “You kind of are. Can’t remember the last time I saw you _alone._ ” It was rare enough for the two of them to be in the same place at the same time nowadays. Chaff’s hockey team was moving around and so were Haymitch and Effie. His best friend took another sip and studied him. “I’m surprised she doesn’t have you locked up somewhere so you can train until exhaustion. Japan’s not too far away, right?”

Japan was right around the corner.

They had been in New York the whole week for an exceptional series of galas with the cream of what the international figure skating scene had to offer. The mood had been relaxed enough but the competitive strike had still been there. Worlds weren’t too far behind yet and the Winter Games were too close for it to be otherwise. Haymitch and Effie were friendly with some of the others pairs but not friendly enough to lower their guards.

“We trained this morning.” he admitted. “I asked Mags for an afternoon off.” He had _begged_ Mags for a day off, more like. Effie was driven to the point of hysterics lately, they would have trained from dawn to mid-night barely pausing long enough to perform in the galas if they had listened to her. Mags tempered her but not by much. “I’ve got to be back for six o’clock, the show starts at eight so… We need to get a move on.”

Chaff frowned. “’Cause we have somewhere to be?”

“Yeah. Kinda.” He turned the cup around in his hands, toying with the card ring if only to keep his fingers busy. He kept his eyes riveted on the mermaid logo. He didn’t know why he was nervous. He had known Chaff for a decade, they had started hockey together, they had been _kids_ together. It wasn’t like his friend was going to throw him under the buss. “Look, you’ve got to help me out.”

“Sounds serious, buddy.” Chaff commented, bringing the cup to his lips. “You didn’t get yourself in trouble or some _shit_ , right?” Haymitch finished his coffee in one long mouthful and stood up, tossing it in a bin and burying his hands in his pockets. Chaff stood up too, his face growing grimmer. “Okay, Haymitch. What do you need?”

There was no question Chaff would have done everything Haymitch required. He started walking, a little startled and amused to think his friend was imagining a whole story out of nothing.

“I’m not asking you to help me beat up some mafia guys.” he snorted. “You can chill.”

“That’s a relief.” Chaff chuckled, as they lost themselves in the New York flow. “I guess. So… What’s up?”

Haymitch remained silent for a few more minutes, trying to find out _how_ to say it. He settled for “We need to find a ring.”

Chaff actually stopped walking.

Haymitch didn’t. He made a face and pushed on, feeling embarrassed for no good reason. He knew the tips of his ears were bright red and he couldn’t blame the cold.

“Alright.” his friend said, catching up. “I’m going to ask once… You’re sure?” Haymitch glared and Chaff lifted his hands. “ _Shit_ , Haymitch, someone _has_ to ask.”

“I’m _fucking_ sure.” he mumbled. “You’re gonna help or what?”

“Have to, right?” Chaff laughed suddenly, clasping his shoulder and shaking it in his enthusiasm. “Best man’s duties and everything. I _am_ the best man, right?”

“ _Nah_ , I’m gonna ask one of my other friends ‘cause I’ve got _so many_ of those.” he retorted, rolling his eyes.

Chaff wouldn’t let go of his shoulder. He was grinning like a fool. “I _knew_ you would marry that girl. You know _when_ I knew? That time at the bar, after the hockey game. Man, I’ve _never_ seen you look at a girl like that. And she’s loaded. Doesn’t hurt.”

“I don’t care about that.” he grumbled.

“’Course you don’t.” his friend chuckled. “That’s ‘cause you’re _in love_.”

“You’re done?” he scowled. “Should have gone alone…”

“No way I’m missing this, buddy.” Chaff snickered. “Haymitch Abernathy ring hunting. _No way_ I’m missing this.”

Another thing Haymitch hated in New York? _The time it took to get a_ fucking _cab._ By the time they had found one, people had stopped Haymitch twice to ask for pictures and autographs. He ignored Chaff’s taunting about him being famous, put on the huge sunglasses that Effie made him carry everywhere and hoped it would be enough that people wouldn’t glance at him twice. _That_ was something he didn’t quite enjoy about being twice World Champions: there were _always_ people who knew who they were and they attracted the attention of _other_ people who didn’t _quite_ know who they were but who didn’t want to miss out on meeting someone famous enough to sign papers and take picture with in the street.

Their first stop was _Cartier_ and Chaff let out a long whistling sound. “Well, your paycheck is well above mine.”

“Effie likes her _shit_ expensive.” he shrugged, pushing his sunglasses on his head.

He wasn’t worried about the money, they were making a comfortable income and her father might have been more often on business trips than at home but he had stressed enough times the importance of _investing_ that Haymitch had listened and he was making some profits with that. He had won enough money in the last two years to be financially stable for _a while_. It wasn’t just the galas and the sponsoring, it was also the astonishing amounts some people were ready to pay to have them on their show or in their magazines.

“So what are we looking for?” Chaff asked, once inside, looking at the jewels on display with an unimpressed twitch of his lips. “We’re going for huge and shiny?”

Haymitch shook his head. “It needs to be practical so she doesn’t have to take it off every day to practice. So… There should be a diamond but… Mostly flat. And I want _gold_ not white gold.”

He had a good idea of what he wanted although nothing definite.

“You really thought about this.” his friend commented and he sounded almost impressed.

He had been thinking about this for a while truth be told, longer than when the subject had popped up a couple of months earlier. He wasn’t the marrying type, not really… A year earlier, he wouldn’t have seen himself doing this no matter how far gone for her he was. But now? Now he was certain she was _it_.

She had _ruined_ him for other women.

“I’m gonna ask her after the Games.” he said, looking at a display of engagement rings and not spotting a single one that fitted his selection criterion.

“Once you’re both Olympic champions.” Chaff teased. “Yeah, I’ve heard _all_ about that from your girl last time. She described her brand new display case in _details_.”

“Win or lose.” he shrugged. “I’m asking her to marry me. _Win or lose_.”

Best case scenario it would only add to the happiness. Worst case it would still make it a happy day.

It was the perfect plan as far as he was concerned.

“It’s romantic.” his friend granted. “She’s gonna like it.”

“Yeah.” he agreed.

There was a polite coughing sound and a middle-aged man in a tailored suit was suddenly wedging his way between them. “May I help you, sirs?” The man looked bored and almost disdainful – and Haymitch figured neither he nor Chaff looked like the rich snobs who shopped in that store – until he took a good look at Haymitch’s face. “ _Oh_. Oh, Mr Abernathy, it is a _pleasure_ to have you here. May I ask…” The man’s eyes darted to the display window they had been looking at and understanding dawned on his face. “Oh, engagement rings! How _fabulous_. I am sure we could find something Miss Trinket would like. I mean… If she is the one, of course.”

Another thing he didn’t quite like about being twice World Champions: people speculating about his and Effie’s relationship. _All_ _the_ fucking _time_. Truth be told, they fed the ambiguity on purpose. It kept them interesting and it kept money coming but _really_ … They had virtually no privacy. Paparazzi were often waiting for an opportunity to take a compromising picture or to take an innocent one out of context, inventing them feuds, fights or torrid affairs every two weeks. Gossip rags dedicated entire pages to them, sometimes going as far as speculating about their sex life – his favorite article about that so far was _Is It Fire Or Is It Ice In The Bedroom_ ; so clever.

Everyone in the ice dance field had more or less figured out their denials were for show only – it was probably the safest place to lower the guard, they weren’t the only couple out there secretly dating, there was no outing people behind their backs, there was _a code_. They weren’t as careful about their relationship as they used to be either. Hiding was becoming tiring. They were young. He was twenty five, she was twenty three… He wasn’t big on public displays but he liked wrapping his arm around her shoulders in a way that didn’t _always_ look friendly, he liked kissing her when he wanted to without wondering if someone was going to catch them and if it would become a PR frenzy Mags would blame him for, he liked the thought of saying _I’m hers, she’s mine, paws off…_

“It’s for me actually, man.” Chaff said before the guy could go on. “And I’m not marrying Effie before you ask.”

“I see.” The man looked almost disappointed. “Well, if you tell me what you are looking for and which range of prices…”

“What a _douche_.” Chaff scoffed as soon as they were out of the shop – without a ring but _annoyed_. 

“Still not as bad as Effie’s mother.” he snorted. He had grown used to rich people looking down at him. He was immune now.

“The dragon’s going to be your mother-in-law.” his friend pointed out, clearly finding the whole thing _hilarious_.

“Yeah. That will go well.” His face darkened. He already knew Elindra would know no peace until she had broken them up once she would learn about their engagement. He also suspected there would a huge showdown and that it would be a battle Effie would have to fight for herself. He wasn’t scared of what she would choose, she had proven enough times she was willing to choose him over her mother but he knew it would hurt her and _that_ he would have gladly done without.

“I can’t believe you’re going to get married.” his best friend said. “Three years ago…”

“Yeah.” he cut him off. He didn’t want to think about _before_. There had been grief and pain and struggle… And he was still dealing with everything even now but it was easier, _better_. And it was in huge parts thanks to Effie’s constant presence. She brought joy in his life no matter how much he fought it. She was too bright, too lively and too determined for him to spend all his time in darkness like he used to.

“She’s really good for you.” Chaff sincerely offered. “At first I thought… Yeah, I was scared she was just in it for the thrill, you know? The bad boy vibes and the rich Daddy’s girl’s rebellion but… Last summer at the beach… She’s _good_ for you. And you’re good for her, I guess.”

Haymitch shrugged, uncomfortable with talking about his feelings.

But that was the truth. They _were_ good for each other. Together, they were _unstoppable_. He couldn’t imagine a future she didn’t feature in.

He wasn’t much for hope and faith but she had restored his belief in happiness because she _was_   making him happy even when she was infuriating him, even when he was so fed up with her he shouted at the top of his lungs, even when they glared at each other and refused to cave first and _talk_ … He knew she wouldn’t leave, he knew the storm would pass and they would make up and be ridiculously unable to keep their hands off each other for the next few days. He was happy with her.

And that was why he had no doubt in his heart about this.

They would get married and they would go on being champions and they would be _happy_.

“Let’s go find her a ring.”

°o°

_“Come on…” Haymitch grumbled. “Come back to bed.”_

_He could barely keep his eyes open. He had known the Games would ask a lot out of them but he hadn’t counted on them being so_ exhausting _. He was still feeling jetlagged over their flight to Japan even if it had been days. The Opening Ceremony had been long and had involved a lot of waiting and standing on their feet. The actual competition was more stressing than any they had ever attended._

_Everything had been fine during the few galas they had done recently but now Enobaria and Brutus looked ready to trip them down the stairs and the Russian siblings Cashmere and Gloss clearly hadn’t forgiven them for stealing the World Champions title from them. The friendly atmosphere of the galas had morphed into hostility and mistrust._

_And now Effie was having a panic attack in the middle of the night, the day before their free program, and all_ he _really wanted was_ sleep _._

_He couldn’t wait for the whole thing to be over. He couldn’t wait to step down from that podium – there were no question they would_ be _on the podium, gold or not – and freely_ breathe _again. And then he would take the ring out and it would be perfect. Perfect end to the trip. Maybe she would even finally relax too…_

_“I can’t.” she snapped, keeping on pacing the length of the room. “The second twirl needs work. And what if my knee doesn’t hold and I end up crashing on the ice after you tossed me?”_

_“Sweetheart… Your knee held today, it will hold tomorrow.” he countered. “We’re in the lead for now.”_

_It was a short lead admittedly. The Russians were following close by._

_“How can you be so calm!” she hissed, her arms flying around._

_“’Cause it’s three a.m. and I’m_ fucking _tired.” he retorted, rolling on his back to watch her. She was wearing loose bright yellow shorts and a light camisole. He briefly wondered if he could convince her there were better ways to unwind than_ pacing, _but knew it wouldn’t be really serious to do that the day before such an important competition. They didn’t need any sore muscles – as pleasurable as it would be. “Look… We’ve got this, Effie. We know the routine by heart. It’s a good one. People will love it.”_

_“People, yes.” she sighed. “But what about the jury? I am certain Cashmere and Gloss will play on technique. We should have make ours even more technical. Why didn’t I think of this before? And the gold jumpsuit, do you think it is a good idea? Juries usually prefer more traditional outfits for female skaters… I should have gone with a dress and…”_

_“Breathe.” he reminded her, rolling his eyes. “We beat Cashmere and Gloss before.”_

_“And they might very well just beat us this time!” she replied._

_“And it won’t be a disaster if they do.” he scowled. “Look, I want to win too but if they get gold and we get silver, it won’t be the end of the world! There are more important things.”_

_“Of course, there are not!” she huffed, pausing her pacing long enough to glare at him, hands on her hips. “And it will be the end of_ my _world! I trained my_ whole _life to be here. Everything I ever did was for_ this _. There is_ nothing _more important than securing a win. Don’t you understand? It is everything I live for!”_

_Her words were like a punch to the stomach._ Nothing more important… Everything she lived for…

_“You don’t mean that.” he scoffed, a bit unsure. Didn’t she? She had never made a mystery of her ambitions. “You’re under pressure, fine, but you don’t mean that.”_

_“Of course, I mean it!” she declared, throwing her hands in the air as if he was infuriating her. “An Olympic gold medal is_ everything _to me. There is nothing else I want more. Nothing. And there is nothing more important either. And it is as should be, athletes should always be focused on their objectives.”_

_There were more important things, he wanted to argue, there were things_ he _wanted more… Like her,_ them _._

_He wanted to ask where he was ranking in her priority list: higher or lower than her gold medal? But he was scared of the answer so he stayed silent._

_“Why are you staring at me like that? What is it?” she frowned._

_He schooled his features into a mask of disinterest and shrugged. “Just wondering how much longer you’re going to keep me up. I’ve got a room of my own, you know?”_

_“Don’t be ridiculous. We haven’t slept apart for…” She drew a blank and then waved her hand to indicate it wasn’t important. “I can’t even remember. I suppose you are right. I should try to sleep.”_

_She didn’t look happy about that and when she finally climbed back into bed, she looked even less happy with the fact he didn’t immediately spooned her like they were used to. She manhandled him until she had her back against his chest, one of his legs trapped between hers and his arm wrapped around her. He let her._

_“We will win.” she said confidently enough. He thought she was trying to reassure herself._

_Haymitch didn’t answer._

_They might win the Games, they might not, but he had a feeling there was a bigger battle going on._

_And this one, he thought, they might have just lost._

°O°

_Japan was a strange place but the Olympic Village was Western enough that Haymitch felt less out of sort than outside of it._

_He wasn’t supposed to still be there, of course. He should already have been at the Olympic rink, warming up and rehearsing. They were probably looking for him by now._

_The Village was Western enough that he found a bar and ordered a whiskey. He hadn’t touched a drink in almost a year and a half aside for the occasional flute of champagne, he had rarely felt the urge to or, if he had, Effie had always been there to distract him._

_The previous night conversation was weighing heavily on his mind. He had tried to push it aside, to not give it too much importance. She was under a lot of stress, she was scared her knee wouldn’t hold, her dream was finally within reach…_

_Her dream…_

_Her obsession for an Olympic gold medal had always been something he had taken in stride. He wanted one too. He wanted to win._

_But that wasn’t his dream. Not all of it, at least._

_He wanted more._

_The square box he had been carrying in his pocket felt out of place now. He had dragged Chaff into three jewelries before finding the perfect ring but his friend hadn’t complained – best man duties and all that jazz._

_Win or lose, he had been planning on proposing after the podium, make this a day to truly remember._

_And now…_

_He hadn’t left with Mags and Effie because he had forgotten the ring in their room. When he had realized, he had told them he would catch up. Except after last night, forgetting the ring felt less like an accident and more like a Freudian slip. Had he done it on purpose? He wasn’t sure anymore. He wasn’t sure about anything._

_Effie had given him everything._

_She had given him his life back._

_He had been drowning and she was oxygen._

_She was everything to him._ Everything _._

_Win or lose, he would have been happy. But he knew she wouldn’t._

_And he couldn’t be second best. It would destroy them,_ him _._

_He didn’t even finish the glass of whiskey, he just took one sip. He still had to perform._

_When he left the Village for the rink, the ring remained in the room. The decision was made even before they got the results. The results didn’t matter, not to him, not really. What he_ would _do after precisely, he didn’t know. Ignore the previous night or address it…_

_He felt strangely disconnected from the world around him._

_People ushered him to the locker rooms. He was late, he gathered, later than he had thought. He changed into his costume, his mind blank, and followed one of those girls from staff who ran everywhere with a earpiece and a mic stuck to their head. The competition had already started, Germany was on the ice._

_Effie sighed in relief when she saw him._

_“Where_ were _you?” she hissed when he came to stand next to her._

_“I’m here.” He coiled his hand around her nape by reflex, squeezing gently to relax her. She didn’t relax. She frowned, a look of dismay slowly making its way on her face._

_“Did you drink?” she asked, sounding flabbergasted. “Don’t lie, I can smell it on your breath. You drank._ Today _of all days, you_ drank _?”_

_Her voice carried to the other US team. Clad in their stars and banners jackets, Enobaria and Brutus exchanged a smile. In the lights, her teeth looked like fangs._

_“I’m not drunk.” he retorted. “We’re fine.”_

_“Are we?” she hissed. “How much did you have to drink?”_

_“Just a sip.” he snapped, annoyed now. “Come on, I wouldn’t risk you. You know I wouldn’t risk you. Or don’t you trust me now?”_

_She stared at him long and hard before turning toward the screen to watch. He wrapped his arms around her from behind and she leaned against him but didn’t quite relax. She fidgeted with the zipper of her own US jacket._

_“I trust you.” she said eventually but it sounded strained to his ears._

_They watched Enobaria and Brutus perform, cheering because that was what was expected of them. They were in competition but they were also on the same team after all, one should always remember who the real enemy was. They were excellent and Effie fidgeted even more with her zipper when their notes were announced._

_Having ranked first with the short program, he and Effie still had the best shot though._

_When Mags appeared next to them, she whacked his shoulder to berate him from his lateness, took one look at Effie and then frowned. “What is going on between the two of you?”_

_“Nothing.” they answered in a perfect chorus._

_The old woman shook her head. “Now is not the time for this. We worked too hard. Whatever is happening, fix it later. Only now counts. Give your best.”_

_They were called in the waiting area and Effie shed her jacket, her golden jumpsuit immediately catching the lights._

_“One last advice?” he joked in Mags’ direction._

_“Stay alive.” she answered seriously._

_The Russian siblings were performing now and they had a front seat. Cashmere and Gloss were perfect. There was nothing to say, nothing to criticize. It would be a tough act to beat._

_Effie’s hand slipped into his and she clung to his fingers._

_“I am scared.” she whispered._

_“It was only a sip.” he snapped._

_She glanced up at him. “I said I trust you.”_

_She let go of his fingers but he grabbed them back right away, feeling stupid. It wasn’t_ him _she was scared of. It was everything else. “Sorry, sweetheart.”_

_Cashmere and Gloss finished their routine under the cheers and cries of the crowd. While the Russian siblings bowed, he wrapped his hand around her neck again, drawing her closer to him. They hugged as if they were about to jump into a bottomless sea._

_“I want this.” she said in his ear. “I want this more than anything.”_

_“I know.” he answered, pressing a kiss to her cheek. He would have kissed her full on the mouth if there hadn’t been so many photographers around. “We’ve got this, Effie.”_

_Did they? The notes Cashmere and Gloss got were easily the highest in the competition and brought Russia in the lead for now. It would all depend on_ their _notes. They had won the day before… They needed to win again today. Effie closed her eyes, took a few deep breaths and forced a bright smile on her lips._

_“Chins up, eyes bright, smiles on.” she reminded him._

_“Effie Trinket and Haymitch Abernathy for the United State.” the host called._

_They launched themselves on the ice, waving at the crowd and taking the traditional turn before taking their place at the center. As he lied down on the ice, waiting for the music to start, never averting his eyes from hers, he wondered if perhaps calling this routine_ Time To Say Goodbye _hadn’t been a mistake._

_They didn’t miss a step. The lifts and jumps were technically perfect. The crowd roared at several moments._

_And yet every time he met her eyes, he knew she felt it too._

_They weren’t as in synch as they usually were, something was missing. Maybe it was the nerves, maybe it was the previous night being too much on his mind, maybe it was her knee or the breach of trust when he had taken that sip of liquor… He didn’t know. He just knew he wasn’t as invested in the performance as he should have been and that she wasn’t either._

_When they finished and they took their bows, Effie seemed to be struggling to keep a bright face on so he wrapped his arm around her shoulders as they skated to the notation booth._

_“We lost.” she murmured in his ear, burrowing into his side._

_“I know.” he answered because there was nothing else to say._

_Her eyes were bright but she shed no tear. She hugged Mags and put her jacket back on, accepted the flowers from the little girls as well as the various stuffed animals and letters fans always tossed on the rink after performances and didn’t protest when he wrapped his arms around her shoulders again as they were waiting for the notes._

_They were good notes but not enough for gold._

_“Silver is good.” Mags told them as they left the booth. “There will be more Games in four years. I am proud of you. Good job.”_

_She nodded, never parting from that fake cheerful smile, but avoided his hand when he tried to place it on her shoulder._

_She kept on smiling like a maniac but didn’t engage or answer anyone._

_Her world had just crumbled._

_And he was helpless._

°o°

_Mags opened her door with a puzzled expression that soon turned into a worried frown. “How is she doing?”_

_Haymitch shrugged and walked in his trainer’s apartment when she stepped aside. His eyes were burning and he could have killed someone for a shower but going back to their room was more than he could take._

_“Cried herself to sleep.” he mumbled. “The dragon called. Didn’t help.”_

_He dropped on the small couch – everything was_ small _in Japan – his eyes going to the CNN news the TV was displaying in a low background noise. It was all about the winter Olympics._

_The silver medal was still around his neck. It felt heavy and out of place but he hadn’t found time to take it off yet. He had been too busy standing there helpless while Effie was having a complete breakdown, not accusing him but not quite saying their loss wasn’t solely his fault. He had drank before going to the rink and it might only have been a sip, it might not have affected their performance but she would never forget and she would never forgive. And perhaps he was glad for that alcohol excuse because… Maybe_ he _was simply not good enough to match her._

_She was amazing. She was talented. She could do_ so much… _And at the end of the day he was just a hockey player turned figure skater. He couldn’t match her. He wasn’t pushing her higher, he was dragging her down._

_And his own dreams weren’t matching her ambition._

_He was a simple guy with simple needs._

_She wanted the world on a golden tray._

_He wanted her, a nice life made of laughter, love and maybe, eventually, if he could go past his apprehensions he would like kids, he wanted the competitions too but he wanted her first._

_“How are you doing, boy?” Mags frowned. “Silver is good. You two are still young. In four years…”_

_“She’ll get her gold in four years.” he cut her off. He believed it with everything he had. “Just not with me.”_

_“Haymitch.” she sighed, taking a seat on the couch._

_He wondered if she had seen this coming. He wondered if it had been obvious for everyone but him. Elindra had never made a secret of how she felt about them, Tadius had been polite and nice but never openly welcoming, Chaff had expressed concerns sometimes… He wondered if they had been doomed from the start and he had just not wanted to see it._

_“I wanted to tell you first.” he said, his voice detached. “I’m leaving.”_

_“Do not be an idiot, boy.” She shook her head. “A loss doesn’t end a career. This is not the end of…”_

_“It’s not about my career.” he scoffed. “Hell, it’s not even about… Look, she wants an Olympic title.”_

_“Of course, she does. So do you.” Mags shrugged. “So do_ I _for that matter. And we will all get it in due time.”_

_“No…” he scowled, averting his eyes. “You don’t get what I’m saying. She wants a title. That’s what she wants in life. That’s…” He clenched his jaw. “That’s not what I want.”_

_“Haymitch, you are being an idiot.” she declared._

_“She loves the sport more than she loves me.” he muttered anyway. “It’s fine, I guess. I always knew… She’s driven, I like that, but… Look, I can’t be second best. And she deserves more. She deserves to get her dream and she can’t do that with me dragging her down.” He licked his lips, trying to ignore the hole in his chest. “I’m leaving tomorrow after the gala. Clean break, it’ll be easier. I’ll tell her in the morning, I just wanted to let you know first.”_

_“That will be the biggest mistake of your life.” Mags warned. “You will regret this.”_

_“She deserves…” he insisted._

_“What do_ you _deserve, boy?” she snapped. “Because I’m telling you, that girl is your one in a million. You_ don’t _waste_ _that.”_

_“I’m not wasting it.” he argued. “I’m doing what’s best for_ her _. I’m doing what she will never have the guts to do. I’m taking myself out of the picture so she can be as great as she wants to be. And don’t turn this into some selfless romantic gesture… I’m also doing this so we don’t wake up in ten years like her mom and her dad. I never want to resent her and I don’t want her to resent me. We won’t work, Mags. We won’t…” His voice broke and he turned his head away. “Don’t tell her any of this. Ever. She’ll never let go if she knows… Let her hate me. Easier all around.”_

_She pursed her lips in disapproval. “Easier for whom? I can guarantee it won’t be easier for her. She loves you, Haymitch, and you love her. Do not be an idiot.”_

_“I was being an idiot when I let her in.” he chuckled bitterly. “Should have kept my distance. Should have…” He closed his eyes. “I’m doing what’s best for her.”_

_“You are taking the coward’s way out.” she argued. “And you are better than this, boy.”_

_“Rule one.” he whispered, rubbing his face with his hand. It was ridiculous but he couldn’t stop thinking about_ Casablanca _. It was so deeply linked to what they had shared in Paris… And they had been so happy in Paris… He couldn’t stop thinking about how many times he had criticized Bogart, had called him a coward and an idiot for letting the love of his life go. Well. It seemed like Bogart had a point after all. And Effie too probably. There was no greatest proof of love than leaving the one you loved because you knew it was the best thing for them. “Can I crash on your couch? I don’t want… I can’t go back in there tonight.”_

_Mags stared at him. “She needs you.”_

_“She needs space.” he countered. “She doesn’t want me in there. She can’t even look at me. I let her down.”_

_“There were two of you on that rink. And she wasn’t one hundred percent in that performance either.” she stated. “If anything, losing was team work.”_

_He shrugged. “She still doesn’t need me.”_

_“But_ you _need her.” she sighed, clearly infuriated with him. “It is alright for_ you _to need_ her _.”_

_“Need to learn not to, right?” he snorted without any amusement._

_“You won’t leave.” Mags declared, standing up and patting his shoulder on her way to her bedroom. “You love her too much, you won’t leave her.”_

_She sounded so confident…_

_It was because he loved her too much that he would leave her._

_He was trying to do the right thing._

_For her._

_For them._

°O°

_“Where were you last night?” Effie frowned as he stepped in their bedroom._

_She had cried herself to sleep the previous night and she wasn’t proud of that. But between ranking second at the Olympic Games, Haymitch drinking before their performance and her mother’s phone call… She had been at the end of her tether. He should have stayed though. She knew it wasn’t fair to resent his leaving when she had been screaming like a banshee and very much not wanting to see him at the time but he should have stayed. Waking up alone in bed had been just as hard as waking up and admitting to herself:_ I failed my dream yesterday _._

_“On Mag’s couch.” he said and his voice was strangely flat._

_She wondered if he was angry. That would take the cake, she mused, because if anyone had a right to be angry at the other, it was_ her _. She went about her business, making sure everything was in her bag for the Gala Exhibition that afternoon: the blue dress, two pairs of tights, make-up, pins for her hair, deodorant and the small silk pouch to place her jewelry in during the performance… She briefly brushed her fingers against the charms of her bracelet. It had become an instinctive move of comfort. She was missing her US jacket, she realized, dashing to the chair where she had dropped it the previous night._

_“You should get ready.” she declared when he did nothing but stand there. “It will be time before you know it and I am not leaving the Village without you this time. I would rather you arrive on time.”_

_If he was irritated by the comment, he didn’t show it. She glanced at him, never stopping her mindless buzzing around the room. He was acting odd. His hands were in his pockets and his face was blank._

_“We need to talk.”_

_Those words made her pause and she turned to him, clutching her US jacket to her chest like a shield, suddenly afraid. She didn’t know_ why _she was afraid. There was no reason to be. But the dread was there all the same, coiling in her stomach, more terrible than the first time she had ventured on the ice after her injury._

_“Ominous words.” she joked and it felt flat. She turned to fold her jacket and place it in her bag. “Listen, I won’t pretend I am not angry about you drinking yesterday. Even if it was just a sip. But…”_

_“I’m leaving.” he cut her off._

_“Leaving?” she repeated. “It is not time yet. The shuttle won’t leave for another hour and the gala…”_

_“I’m leaving after the gala.” he clarified. “I’m going back to the States.”_

_She shook her head, forcing things into her bag she didn’t even needed. “We can’t leave before the Closing Ceremony, you know that. It won’t be so long now. I admit I am impatient to go home. I have ideas for training… Mags is right, there will be new Games in four years and…”_

_“And you will need a new partner.” he shrugged. “’Cause I can’t be second best.”_

_The words hit her straight in the chest, like a punch to the plexus. They left her breathless._ Second best _… They seemed to echo her mother’s voice all those times she had warned her she was making a fool of herself by going out there thinking she could win. There was only one champion in the Trinket family and it wasn’t Effie. She wasn’t good enough to win. She wasn’t good enough for a lot of things._

_“You are being very silly.” she laughed. “Your sense of humor really needs to be worked on.”_

_“I’m not… Look, sweetheart, I’m leaving.” he repeated. “You and me… We’re done.”_

_She sat on the bed. She wanted to keep dashing from one end of the room to the other, getting ready, she wanted to_ pretend _she didn’t understand but she understood too well and she couldn’t muster the strength to force a smile on her lips._

_“No, we are not.” she replied calmly. “You are only saying this because of what happened yesterday. You…”_

_“I’m saying this ‘cause I’m done.” He shrugged. “I’m no figure skater. You’ll find better.”_

_“But I don’t need to.” she hissed. “I already have you. You are my partner.”_

_“Not anymore.” he said. “I’ll skate Pokofiev with you but then I’m out of here.”_

_“No, you are not.” She shook her head. “You are_ saying _this but you don’t_ mean _it. We have plans. We are…”_ We are getting married _, she wanted to say but didn’t because as much as they had hinted and joked about it, he had never properly asked her and nothing was set in stone. “We have plans. We will win next time, I promise you. We will win next time, don’t leave me because we lost. Don’t…”_

_“I’m not leaving because we lost.” he sighed. “Well, yeah, I am but… It’s not because of_ you, _Effie. It’s just… It’s not working anymore._ We _’re not working.”_

_She didn’t understand where all this was coming from._ They _were good, they were_ more _than good. They were_ happy _._

_“I have been very focused on the Games lately.” she whispered. “If you feel like I have been less involved in_ us _… Haymitch, I love you.”_

_“I know.” he answered, almost sad. “And I’m sorry.”_

_Somehow, it was the cruelest thing he could have said._

_“You are not leaving.” she snarled, suddenly angry. “You are not breaking up with me right after we lost the Games, you are not_ Seneca _. You wouldn’t do that to me. You_ wouldn’t _. You won’t leave me without a partner after this._ _You_ won’t _.”_

_“It’s always all about the sport, right? I’m telling you we’re done and your first thought is for skating.” he scowled before shaking his head. “I’ll see you in the shuffle.”_

_“We are not done talking.” she argued, standing up. He ignored her, striding to the door. “_ We are not done talking! _”_

_She grabbed his arm and he shrugged her off, so brutally she stumbled back and had to reach for the wall to steady herself. They glared at each other for a moment and then he was gone, slamming the door shut behind him._

_She slid down the wall and sat there for a long time, convincing herself this was just a feud due to stress and exhaustion. When she stood back up, she firmly believed he didn’t mean any of what he had said._

_Belief was a powerful thing._

_And if there was a falter to her steps…_

_Well…_

_She was great at self-delusion but she wasn’t great at belief._

°O°

_Mags always insisted that character pieces should be_ lived _, well… Effie was right there with Juliet. She didn’t have to reach far to express despair or impossible love that threatened to destroy everything._

_The Olympics’ Gala Exhibition was supposed to be fun. It was everything but._

_The moment Prokofiev’s music started, all Effie wanted to do was cry, the conversation she had had with Haymitch earlier too present in her mind, his words too heavy to be forgotten or ignored… She couldn’t even register what he had told her._ Leaving, second best, done _… The words kept swirling in her mind again and again and again… She gave everything to her performance instead. She kicked harder, she jumped higher, she threw herself in his arms with more abandon…_

_They were perfect, she knew that without a doubt._

_It might even be their best performance._

_She wanted it to never end but eventually the music stopped, people cheered and he helped her back to her feet. He wouldn’t meet her eyes and he moved as if to take his bow. She didn’t let go of his hands._

_“This is not the last time we skate together.” she whispered frantically, her sight blurred by tears. “This is not the last time we skate together, do you hear me?”_

_“Don’t cry, sweetheart.” he sighed._

_Instead of stepping away, he wrapped his arms around her and she clung to him right back, not caring that they were in the middle of the rink, that people were clapping and staring, that someone would pick up on the tension…_

_“You are not leaving me.” she hissed in his ear. “This is a stupid cruel joke you are playing on me. You are not leaving me.”_

_“Effie…” he replied. “I am.”_

_“No, you are not!” she snapped. “You are not! I forbid it. Don’t bring it up again. This subject is over.”_

_She heard the announcer calling their name with more insistence and she realized they had been hugging for too long. They were disrupting the whole schedule._

_“Eyes bright, chin up, smile on.” she instructed before stepping back for the bows._

_She was grabbed by someone who wanted to congratulate her as soon as they were off the rink and then it was Mags who wanted to tell her about her loop jump and when she turned around, Haymitch was nowhere to be seen._

_She forced herself to swallow back the panic because_ he wouldn’t leave her _. He couldn’t leave before the Closing Ceremony anyway, it simply wasn’t done. There were protocols to the Games._

_She and Mags waited forever after the gala, until Brutus took pity on them and told them the men’s locker room was empty and that Haymitch had already left. It took everything Effie had not to run to their apartment when they reached the Olympic Village. She checked her place first, because that was where they had been staying. It was empty. His suitcases and clothes were gone. She checked his room but he hadn’t spent a single night there and everything was spotless, untouched._

He wouldn’t leave _, the words kept turning in her mind. He was upset because they hadn’t won gold, that was it. He would calm down and he would come back._

_He wasn’t back the next day._

_Or the one after that._

_One morning, Mags came in with a pained expression on her face and she knew, she simply knew, this wasn’t just about being upset they hadn’t won. He wasn’t drinking himself into a stupor somewhere in Nagano or lying low in a hotel until she got tired of that game and went after him._

_“He’s back in the States, girl.” Mags told her, patting her hand. “Medias are all over this story.”_

_“But he will come back.” she argued. “He will. I_ know _he will.”_

_It was denial at its highest, she mused in the last sane corner of her mind, but she couldn’t begin to care. She couldn’t do any of it without him. She couldn’t. She needed him. And he had promised. He had promised time and time again he would never leave her. He loved her. She loved him. You didn’t leave when you loved people._

_“I don’t think he will, Effie.” Mags told her softly. “I’m sorry. I don’t think he will.”_

_She refused to listen to another word. She spent the rest of the Games in bed, her face buried in the pillow that smelt like him, waiting for him to come back. She would make him grovel and crawl. She would make him apologize a thousand times and maybe a few thousands more just to make a point. She would go on a sex strike and she would refuse to do all the things he liked once she eventually caved to his talented fingers. She would make him pay for the misery he was putting her thought._

_But it was temporary. Just temporary._

_She didn’t train. What was the point?, she told Mags, she had no partner to train with. She wouldn’t get out of bed. She was waiting._

_Mags forced her to get up and dressed for the Closing Ceremony. She attended alone and people stared. Brutus was nice about it and offered for her to stick close to him and Enobaria. She hated pity. It was like when she had injured her knee all over again._

_The flight back to the States was long and painful. She took sleeping pills halfway through._

_She hoped he would be at the airport but nobody was there to welcome her except the Trinkets’ new driver._

_She rushed to their room as soon as they reached the estate._

Their _room was_ her _room again. It was like he had never been there at all. His clothes weren’t in her dressing, his books were gone, the insufferable mess he left everywhere had been tidied… No razor in the bathroom, no shaving cream, no after shave, no man deodorant next to her floral roll-on one, no second toothbrush next to her pink one… The only proof that he had been there at all was the plastic cups they used to wash their mouths after brushing their teeth. It was a gift from Chaff, a joke from when he had stayed with them at the beach villa over the holidays… He had bought them matching cups. Hers was pink with a Princess Peach pitching a feat and his was red, on it Mario had his huge fists on his hips and looked grumpy._ _It was the only trace left of him._

_She didn’t have the courage to check the bedroom he hadn’t been using in months. She knew she would find it empty._

_She clutched the Mario cup to her chest and, for the first time, she cried._

_It was stupid and pathetic to cry over a plastic cup with a video game character she didn’t even like on it, but she sobbed and wailed all the same until she was too exhausted and dragged herself to her bed._

_A part of her was still waiting for him to realize his mistake and to come back._

_Another part knew she simply wasn’t enough to hold him back._

°O°

_“So…” Caesar started, letting his sentence trail into an inviting silence._

_Haymitch blinked, blinded by the spotlights overhead. The armchairs were too soft and he slumped in his in a way that would irritate both Effie and their coach. He could glimpse Mags, backstage, pursing her lips in annoyance and tossing him the same disappointed looks she had been shooting him since he had announced his decision. Next to him, his partner was making a visible effort to keep her back straight and her chin high but then again_ he _didn’t have twenty years of ballet lessons under his belt._

_He waited for Effie to speak because that was how interviews usually went – she led and he followed – but this time was different, everyone knew it and she remained silent._

_“Let’s cut down to the chase, shall we?” Caesar said when it became clear neither of them would catch the ball he had thrown. How many times had they been there over the last two years and a half? How many times had they sat in front of Caesar and answered his questions? How many victories had they celebrated on this very same set? How many losses had they tried to explain? “First of all, let me congratulate you on your amazing performance at the Olympics… It was_ truly _a sight to behold.”_

_That was usually the moment when Effie would have flashed her dazzling smile and offered a modest reply. Caesar was met with a silent brick wall. Her face was blank, the polite smile on her lips only there for appearance’s sakes._

_Haymitch’s eyes kept dropping to her wrist but no matter how many times he looked the charm bracelet was gone. It hurt more than he had thought it would._

_“Not good enough for gold.” he snorted._

_“Well…” Caesar smiled with indulgence. “Everyone knew the Russians would be a tough competition. And you_ did _beat the other American couple, Enobaria and Brutus, who were given favorite despite your two times World Champions title…”_

_“Yeah, there’s that.” he shrugged. Enobaria and Brutus hadn’t even ranked on the podium._

_Caesar waited for a moment, obviously expecting Effie’s input and when it was clear nothing would be forthcoming on that front, he cleared his throat and leaned in a little as if to invite confidences. Haymitch hated the whole shebang: the theatrics and the stereotypical public personas. That wasn’t something he would miss._

_“We heard a lot of rumors in the last few weeks…” the host said in a soft voice. “Of course, the Olympics put an enormous amount of stress on the both of you but…”_

_“The rumors are true.” Haymitch cut him off, impatient to be freed from that hell. “I’m retiring.”_

_Caesar looked slightly taken aback and Haymitch wondered if he had truly thought the rumors were only that. Sports specialists had been debating the pros and cons ever since it had first came out that he and Effie weren’t training together anymore – they were public figures, it came with the territory. Hell, they had been debating since he had left Japan before the closing ceremony even took place…_

_“You are only twenty-five…” Caesar chuckled. “That’s a bit young for retirement.”_

_“That’s how it is.” he retorted firmly._

_The host’s amusement vanished quickly. “You have a promising career ahead of you, Haymitch. Everybody thought you were finished when you quitted hockey and yet you proved us wrong. Not to mention you might still compete in the next World Championships and perhaps it’s pushing it a little but the next Olympic Games aren’t that far away, surely you…”_

_“My decision’s definitive.” he interrupted him again._

_“Manners.” Effie hissed, finally breaking out of her muteness._

_Fortunately for him, it gave Caesar another subject to explore. Unfortunately for her, it meant she was now the host’s target. “And how do you feel about this, Effie?”_

_Haymitch scoffed. Where were they? At a shrink session?_

_“Haymitch’s decision is his own.” Effie answered quietly. “It is not my place to approve or disapprove.”_

_Caesar leaned back in his own chair, watching her with over the top compassion. “You say this but you can’t deny that there have always been rumors about the nature of your relationship…”_

_“Our relationship has always been strictly professional.” she declared coldly. “As we have stated times and times again. We are colleagues and friends nothing more.”_

_Her smile never faltered but the way she looked at him was threatening enough that Caesar wisely switched to another subject. “Does it mean you will be looking for a new partner, Effie? Or are you retiring too? At only twenty-three, it would be a shame…”_

_Haymitch waited for her to rebuke Caesar, to remind him mentioning a lady’s age was the upmost of bad manners but she was clearly off her game that day. Her voice remained clipped, her face set in a neutral, almost distant, expression._

_“I am looking for a new partner.” she confirmed._

_With a few more sentences Caesar wrapped up the interview and launched an advertisement break. They all shook hands and an assistant ushered them backstage. Effie stormed away as soon as they had been freed from their mics._

_He watched her walk away from him and Mags in her ridiculous pink skirt, knowing it was the last he would ever see of her._

_She hadn’t looked at him once._

 


	13. Off Beat

* * *

 

**_comforting kisses pressed to tear-stained cheeks between whispered words of reassurance and concern._ **

* * *

 

They were off beat.

The _Ice Dance_ series of galas were a big thing – not only because the paycheck was huge – and Effie had been talking his ear off about it for weeks.

Rehearsals were important. The show was a big machine, it allowed them to take their marks and at the same time, technicians could adjust spotlights and special effects. The other skaters were sitting around the rink, talking, laughing, or watching… It was different from competitions, more… _friendly_. Even Enobaria and Brutus weren’t as unbearable as usual.

Rehearsals were important and he didn’t need to glance at Mags who was hovering near the rink wall to know she wasn’t happy with what they were doing.

Thing was, Effie wasn’t completely into it and he tried to compensate but it was hard to meet her halfway when she wasn’t _even_ halfway. The piece was lyrical and it added to the level of difficulty. There was no being in character for him when he wasn’t one hundred percent certain his partner was at the top of her game.

The first figure was impressive but not difficult. She locked her ankles behind his knee and he held her by the hand, making a large turn on the ice. They  had done it a hundred times, they _had_ that move. And yet he could feel the _strain_. Her whole body was tensed and there was a telling glint in her eyes.

He was careful after that, going through the motions but already apprehending the big toss and jump. When it came, when she glided in front of him, knees bent, ready to push, he didn’t toss her high and he didn’t toss her far. She spun in the air as planned and, for a second, he thought it would be okay. She landed on her leg, arms stretched like a graceful bird…

And then she collapsed.

She glided on her side on a feet or so. He went on with the routine, waiting for her to get up and join him once more, but when she pushed herself to her feet, he guessed the rehearsal was over with. He rushed to her but she was already limping toward the wall, using it as a clutch to reach the opening. He tried to help but she shrugged his hand off.

The music was abruptly cut off.

She disappeared in the locker room and he tried to follow but found his path blocked by a staff member ranting about schedules and money and what not. He was vaguely aware of Brutus suggesting they took their place so Effie could get a break and of Mags trying to play buffer. He pushed past the guy, snatching the blades protections from his trainer’s hand as he went and hurried to the locker room.

He hoped she was alone in there because he didn’t lose any time knocking. He barged right in, not really surprised to find her sitting on a bench, her bad leg stretched in front of her, her good one hugged close to her chest, jaw clenched and tears streaming down her face.

He closed the door and went straight for her bag, rummaging inside until he found the painkillers and a bottle of water. He knew it was bad when she swallowed two pills without trying to argue. He sat on the edge of the bench and cupped her cheek, drawing her to his chest. There was no point asking if she wanted a doctor and there was no point suggesting they called it a day. Once she would have calmed down and gotten a hold on the pain, she would insist they went back there.

He pressed slow kisses on her wet cheeks and on her forehead, holding her close until she stopped crying. Those pills made her drowsy, which was why she would rather take ibuprofen given the choice, so he didn’t worry when she leaned her whole weight him.

He simply shifting so he could sit behind her and still hold her.

They had been there before.

They would work through it.


	14. Christmas On Ice

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Christmas week goes on! And today I give you trash for my musketeers! So this is for Ursula and Vika who were brave enough to plunge in the trash can with me! One of my best memory of 2016 will be our trash deliriums! Love you both!

**_ Christmas On Ice _ **

Haymitch rushed to the rink, battling against the ankle high coat of snow on the ground. The path had been cleared that morning – like every other morning, the Trinkets’ staff was too efficient for it to be otherwise even when the dragon wasn’t in residence. Thick snowflakes were falling down though and he didn’t think it would take long for the estate to be cut off from the world. They would need to build fires that night. Last time it had snowed so badly, electricity had given in.

“Not sure that’s what Mags meant when she said five days of vacation.” he grumbled, as soon as he was in the safety of the rink, brushing the snow off his shoulders and hair.

Soft Christmas music was playing in the background, not loud enough to cover the screeching of her blades as she glided, twirled and jumped. It was a music in itself, those sounds, one he had learned over the last two years, one he knew as intimately as his own body – or hers.

“I felt like skating.” she answered without stopping, launching into a loop that she finished like a gracious bird about to take flight, one leg outstretched behind her, arms perpendicular to her body, her bad bent knee supporting all of her weight.

“When don’t you?” he scoffed with a fond smirk, walking closer to the rink to lean against the wooden railing.

He watched her for a while, a bit surprised that no lecture about impeding Olympics and why they couldn’t afford to take even five days followed that statement. Although not _that_ surprised. They were ready. They _felt_ ready. Ready enough that they could afford to take time off to celebrate Christmas – which would also give her knee some time to rest. He _wasn’t_ surprised that she couldn’t keep off the ice for a whole day though. It was all her life. All she had ever known and all she aspired to. She was passionate and dedicated and he loved that about her. Just as much as he loved watching her skate. 

If it hadn’t been snowing so steadily, he might have put on his skates and joined her. Improvisation wasn’t his strongest suit. He had progressed enough to make suggestions now, when they were creating pieces, but he wasn’t yet at her level, he would probably _never_ reach her level, and he wasn’t able to think on the spot like she did. Well, she claimed she _didn’t_ think, she just… _skated_.

It was a beautiful thing to see.

“We need to head back, sweetheart.” he called out after a couple of minutes. “The snow’s getting bad.”

And as much as he didn’t mind getting snowed in inside the house, getting stuck in the rink would suck.

She sighed but went for a last jump and then glided to him, propping herself on the wooden railing to steal a kiss, before going straight for the opening. He met her there with her blades protections. It didn’t take very long for her to get back into her coat and scarf – red and green in tribute to the season – and to lock the rink but the snowflakes were now pouring hard. They trekked to the house as quickly as they could, holding fast to each other’s gloved hand.

She bent and stretched her leg a few times once they were safely inside.

“You want ice?” he asked.

She actually shivered at the thought and shook her head with a face. “Something hot.”

“Go warm up, Princess.” he told her, going straight for the kitchen where he knew he would find Sae always eager to feed her up properly like she couldn’t when her mother was there.

He came back to their favorite sitting-room with two steaming mugs of hot cocoa full to the brim.  A year earlier she would have ranted about calories for half an hour. Now, she just accepted the mug with a grateful smile and a vague mumble about how it really wasn’t serious not to stick to their diet.

They drank their chocolate huddled together under a blanket on the couch, watching the Christmas tree in the corner peacefully twinkle. The tree was small and a bit haphazardly adorned. It had nothing at all in common with the huge tree in the hall but it was their favorite, mainly because they had decorated it themselves.

He wasn’t much into Christmas, to be honest, but Effie loved it and _he_ loved seeing her _happy_.

The fact that both Elindra, Tadius, and Mags were away for the holidays and that they had the house to themselves was a nice bonus.

“I want all our Christmases to be like this.” she hummed at some point, burrowing further into his side, seeking his warmth.

“They’ll be.” he promised.

If everything went according to plan, they would be married the following year.

And, truth be told…

He couldn’t wait for the rest of their life to begin.


	15. Protect The Girl

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: Idk if you do this but I have like a prompt for fire and ice verse. Can you do a thing where Haymitch hates when he has to throw Effie in the air and not catch her just let her land? Thank you!

The ice sang under Effie’s blades as she gracefully rushed toward Haymitch, making a real effort to push down any lingering doubt or hesitation. They had been training for this in the gym for two days, she and Mags had explained everything a thousand times, drilling it into his head that the main part was _to keep her safe_ at all cost.

She bent the knees when she got within his reach, readying herself for the jump. His hands grabbed her hips, his palms warm despite the layers she was wrapped in.

In theory, he was supposed to give more momentum to her jump, to make her spin in the air and let her land on one leg a few feet away – _assuming_ her knee held but it _would_ hold, failure wasn’t an option.

Seneca had never hesitated. That figure had always been neat, just like everything they had done together. Neat, fast and clean.

Haymitch…

Haymitch was another story.

They had been training for a week now and the nagging thought that she was crazy to try to groom a hockey player into a figure skater hadn’t left her yet.

Nothing he did was neat, nothing he did was fast and nothing he did was clean.

But she couldn’t deny they had a _chemistry_ that might have been stronger than what she had shared with Seneca.

She pushed _up_ , almost eager for the _rush of adrenaline_ that always accompanied her soaring in the air, but instead of letting go of her hips, instead of tossing and giving her a spin, he brought her back toward his chest. They tumbled backward and she wasn’t exactly surprised when he ended up falling on his ass, leaving her to grab hard at his shoulders not to follow him down.

“Haymitch!” she hissed.

“Yeah, yeah, I know…” he grumbled.

“Do you?” she insisted. “Because this is a _key_ transition.”

“Calm _the fuck_ down, sweetheart!” he snapped.

“She’s right.” Mags sighed from the side of the rink. “We talked about this, Haymitch…” Their trainer shook her head. “Take a fifteen minutes break. I need to make a phone call.”

Effie glided to the edge of the rink, snatching a bottle of water and very much not glancing at Haymitch while he picked himself off the ice. She remained silent until Mags was gone.

“If you are not one hundred percent in, you should tell me right now.” she declared. “There is no shame in renouncing, this is a hard life. If you cannot keep up…”

“I _can_ keep up.” he spat, rubbing his backside.

“Can you?” she huffed. He still tended to forget he wasn’t wearing hockey skates anymore… He still couldn’t make sense of the toe pick… “This is a simple enough task I am requiring of you. T _oss me in the air_. How hard is _that_? I am doing most of the job!”

His eyes darted to her bad knee but she glared, placed her bottle down and immediately glided back on the ice, taking speed for a double loop just to make a point. Whatever her had wanted to say, he didn’t. He pitifully reached the edge and grabbed the bottle she had just abandoned.

“What if you _don’t_ land?” he grumbled. “What if I toss too far or too hard and you _crash_?”

She placed her hands on her hips and let her skates take her closer to him. “Well, then, I _crash_. It won’t be the first time and it won’t be the last.” Once she was near enough, she planted the top of her blade and came to a stop at a reasonable distance. “We are learning to know each other, Haymitch. _Of course_ , it will take time for us to get in synch. I am not expecting miracles.”

He took a few mouthfuls of water, averting his eyes. “I’m not going to be responsible for you getting hurt.”

He was referring to the accident during his last hockey match, she figured. He hadn’t talked about that before. He hadn’t talked about _anything_. All they had done ever since he had arrived in Aspen was argue about everything and nothing.

She wasn’t sure what to make of him, to be honest.

“If you don’t want me to get hurt, then you need to _learn_ how to toss me in the right way.” she argued.

“Or we could skip _that_.” he suggested. “We could…”

“This is the least dangerous figure we will have to do.” she cut him off. “I am willing to trust you, Haymitch. You need to trust me to do my part, trust me not to get hurt.”

You learned how to fall.

Accidents happened, of course, _she would know_ …

But, you didn’t train as a figure skater for all your life and not _learn_ how to cushion a fall.

“Not that I care about _you_.” he mumbled, taking another gulp of water. “Don’t get any idea.”

“Why would you?” she snorted, snatching the bottle of water back to take a sip. “I am simply _your partner_.”

“Yeah, exactly.” he scowled. “Protect the girl, yeah?”

“Protecting the girl doesn’t mean keeping my feet on the ice.” she argued. “It means doing everything you can to help me _not_ get hurt.”

“I don’t like it.” he insisted.

“You do not have to _like_ it, you simply have to _do_ it.” she sighed, infuriated. “At worst, I will crash and I will get a few bruises. I will survive, I promise you.”

He let out a deep sigh and fisted his hands twice before giving her a brief nod. She put the bottle down and they got back into position.

Effie spared a thought for what Mags would have to say when she would come back to realize they hadn’t taken a break like she had asked but pushed it aside. He was willing to try _now_ , who knew if he would be willing in ten minutes…

“Ready?” she called out.

“Be careful, yeah?” he winced.

She rolled his eyes and _dashed_ , gathering the exact amount of speed she needed, bending her knees just as much as necessary… Hands grabbed her hips, pushed her up when she jumped and tossed her away…

She knew it was wrong well before she attempted a single spin.

The shriek was a reflex she couldn’t control but the fall itself, she _did_ control, instinctively curling up to lessen the impact. She still ended up gliding on a few feet on her side. Her hip and her thigh had taken the blunt of it and there would _definitely_ be bruising.

“You’re okay?” he worried with a frown. She felt his hand on her shoulder one second before the other one hooked under her armpit and hauled her back up on her skates.

“I am fine.” she promised, brushing ice off her training pants. “You didn’t toss me high enough. And perhaps… Your position could be better.” She grabbed his hands and placed them on her hips, putting them in the exact place she wanted them. “There. See? The strength wasn’t so bad though. Let’s try again.”

“You just fell.” he muttered, taking his hands off her.

“Yes and I am _fine_.” she shot back, skating away so she had room to work. “And we are trying _again_. Higher this time, Haymitch.”

It was difficult to get him to cooperate with her…

But she thought that maybe, just _maybe_ , they might have a shot after all…  


	16. A Night In New York City

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And a very happy birthday to holycheekbones!

“The transitions were sloppy tonight.” Effie hummed, a bit on the sleepy side.

Haymitch switched off the bathroom light and came back into the bedroom, making sure to avoid the mess of discarded clothes that were scattered on the hotel room floor. It drove her crazy, he knew, his eternal lack of order but she had been too tired to protest or force him to do anything about it. It didn’t matter anyway, in a couple of days, he would cram everything back in his suitcase and they would be going back to Aspen.

He couldn’t say he was sorry to leave New York.

“Yeah. I noticed.” he answered, crawling over her to sit on his side of the bed. He stretched his arms high over his head, his aching muscles not thanking him for it.

“We cannot afford sloppy.” she reminded him. “Not with the Games so close.”

She didn’t say it was his fault but he heard it anyway. And she wasn’t wrong so he let it slide. The fact was that he had been distracted, still feeling the weight of the velvet box in his coat pocket. The afternoon had been exhausting. He had been through three jewelry shops to find the perfect ring with Chaff making fun of him all the while and now…

She was lying on her side with her back to him, her head cushioned on her bent arm, about to fall asleep he was sure. He petted her blond hair, smirking a little when she took advantage of that to stroke the back of his hand.

“We’re gonna win those Games, sweetheart.” he promised. “We’re the best.”

“Yes, we are.” she almost purred.

She would feel better once they were back in Aspen and could stick to their normal rehearsal schedule though, he figured. And he would too. The series of galas had been fun – galas usually were – and exploring New York with her had been nice. Central Park, cozy restaurants, the pier… They were young and in love in a city that never slept… He might have hated the urban jungle that was the big apple but, with her, everything was an adventure he was willing to go on. She was magical like that.

He was almost tempted to pop out the ring right then.

It was there, in the pocket of the coat he had tossed on the small desk in the corner… She would say yes. He had no doubt she would. It wasn’t a question of _if_ but _when_ and…

No… His plan was good and it wouldn’t do to ruin it because he was impatient.

With a resolute sigh, he lied down and wrapped his arm around her waist, pleased when she immediately burrowed back against him. Her free hand wrapped around his wrist, ran up his forearm, squeezed a  little…

“I love your arms.” she mumbled, half asleep.

He chuckled at that. “Just my arms, yeah?”

Arms that lifted, tossed, grabbed and embraced…

She turned around, careful not to dislodge said arm from around her and nuzzled his neck. He could feel her grin against his skin.

“And you thighs.” she declared. “And your hands. And your calves. And your chest. Everything. I love _everything_.”

“Better.” he teased, burying his nose in her hair. Something _stirred_ in his chest, became so soft at her contact… It was almost _painful_ how much he loved her. The good kind of painful. “Sleep now, sweetheart.”

Her fingers fisted the worn out fabric of his shirt and she wriggled a little. He rolled on his back, understanding what she wanted, letting her use his shoulder as a pillow. He automatically held his breath and put a protective hand over his goods when her leg hooked over his hip. Once he was sure she wouldn’t accidentally knee him, he covered the hand that was fisting his shirt and wrapped his other arm around her once more, bringing her close.

He smiled when he fell asleep, happier than he had ever thought he could be again.


	17. Training Bruises

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tomorrow is my precious 100years-to-live ‘s birthday and for reasons she gets her birthday gift one day early! I hope you enjoy this and that you will have the most awesome birthday tomorrow! I love you very very much! <3

Effie placed the toothbrush back into the plastic Princess Peach cup and gave one last glance to her reflection before heading back into the bedroom. Haymitch looked up from his book only long enough to smirk at the stolen old hockey shirt she was using as a pajama and she flashed him a smug grin right back. It might have been a tad childish but she liked having his name branded on her back.

She joined him on the bed without a second thought, checking the alarm clock only to groan when she realized how few hours separated them from their morning jog. She briefly wondered if she could convince him to stick to the training mills instead of wandering into the woods the next day and then took the charm bracelet off her wrist and placed it in the shell shaped cup she kept on her nightstand for that exact purpose.

“You mind the light?” he asked distractedly, engrossed in his reading.

She was so tired she wouldn’t have minded the brightest spotlight any ice rink had to offer. They had been training so hard for the Games… They had spent the whole day practicing a new figure and had only managed to really nail it in the early evening. It wasn’t perfect yet but they would get there. It had gone better in the gym without the skates on than it had on the ice but Effie was confident.

Together, they could only succeed.

Now if only her _damn_ knee would stop hurting…

“No, don’t worry.” she hummed, long used to his reading at night.

She leaned in for a goodnight kiss that he granted with a spark of mischief in the eyes and a teasing touch of tongue. She chose not to deepen it, truly too exhausted for that sort of activities. He pouted a little but the lure of his novel was apparently distraction enough.

She snuggled against his side with a content sigh and he automatically shifted to accommodate her. She rested her head on his shoulder, he wrapped his arm around her, propping his book on his stomach, and she folded her leg over his body like she tended to always do.

The moment she put its weight on his thigh, he hissed and brutally shoved her leg aside only to wince. “Sorry, sweetheart.”

“What’s wrong?” she worried, sitting up. “Did you hurt yourself?”

It wouldn’t have been the first time one of them got hurt and hid it from the other.

“Just a bruise.” he mumbled. “It’s fine.”

She pushed the blankets off them with a frown. “Let me see.”

“It’s _nothing_. I’m telling you.” he insisted. “Don’t make a fuss.”

_Too much protesting,_ she mused.

“I will make a fuss if I please.” she huffed. “ _Now_. Take off those pants and let me see.”

He smirked, suddenly a lot more cocky. “You should just have said you wanted me naked, sweetheart.” She stared at him, lips pursed and eyes narrowed, not amused in the least. When she tilted her head to the side he rolled his eyes.  “ _Fine.”_

He wriggled until the sweatpants were down to his knees. She gasped when she saw the impressive dark bruise on his thigh. It was as long as her hand, wide, and it was _clearly_ tender.

She didn’t need to ask where he had gotten that either. She had seen those kind of bruises before. It was the kind blunt contact with a blade left behind.

And they had been struggling with that figure _all day_.

“Why didn’t you say I was hurting you?!” she snapped, already rolling out of bed to get the appropriate salve in the bathroom.

“Cause I knew you would fuss.” he grumbled. “And we were starting to get it right.”

“Getting it right won’t help us much in the long run if you are _injured_.” she pointed out, a little angry. It was with herself that she was really furious though. She should have noticed. She was batting her eyelashes hard when she came back to sit on the bed, fighting stupid pointless tears.

“See?” he sighed. “Now you’re upset.”

“I am upset because I hurt you.” she sniffed, squeezing some cream into her hand and letting him keep to the side everything that need keeping and that tended to curl against his thigh when left to its own device. She was attentive not to brush against him as she gently rubbed the salve on his skin. “It isn’t _unreasonable_.”

When _he_ accidentally hurt her during training, he usually threw impressive tantrums.

“Never said it was.” he snorted. “But it’s just a bruise,  Effie.”

“A big ugly bruise.” she retorted.

“You can always kiss it better, you know.” he teased.

She pouted, faking confusion. “But it is covered with cream now.”

“Some things aren't.” he winked. “Might consider kissing _them_ better.”

“Did I hurt you in _other_ places, Haymitch?” she flirted, deciding she owed him one for that bruise anyway.

“Don’t know. I think you should give it a check. A thorough one.” he taunted.

She chuckled but obliged.

She would regret it when the alarm would ring in the morning but she had no doubt it would be worth it.

 

 

 

 


	18. Training Hard

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Someone asked if I had any Fire and Ice snippets left and, as it turned out, I did. I had completely forgotten about his so since it’s the season and everything… Let’s have some ice skating champions!

“If Mags come back, we will be in trouble.” she protested against his lips.

It wasn’t enough incentive for him to stop. He had her pressed against the wooden railing enclosing the rink, one of her hands under his woolen sweater and the other in his hair, his own hands were kneading her ass and he just couldn’t stop kissing her.

“We’ll be _screwed_.” he agreed with a snort, reaching out for the edge of the railing, using it to glide even closer to her, to _trap_ her against the wall. There was probably something to be said about the dangers of making out while on skates but when her mouth was running under his jaw, _biting down_ without warning… He couldn’t quite begin to care.

They were supposed to be rehearsing their short program not… driving each other mad and increasingly frustrated by the second. He tugged on her training pants tentatively, tried to sneak a hand inside… She pushed her hips forward, overbalanced and almost ended up with her ass on the ice. Good thing he was an expert at catching her.

He lifted her up and she wrapped her legs around his waist, her arms locked around his neck, her mouth devoured his… There was no good way to reach under her clothes, no good way to appease the ache but the kisses were violent and _starved_ and he blindly skated in the direction of the rink opening, guiding himself by keeping a hand on the railing, gasping against her open mouth when she tugged at his hair…

He didn’t know how they reached the armchair without breaking anything or falling over. He bumped into the coffee table between the two armchairs and he heard the magazines she kept there tumbling on the floor but he couldn’t care less. He flopped down on the chair, letting her straddle him, letting her hands fumble with his fly while he pushed his under her shirt and inside her bra…

She leaned in to capture his mouth again, turning the kiss into a mess of tongues and teeth and breathless whimpers of pleasure every time he _squeezed_ …

It was a good thing the door to the rink creaked although he barely had time to register the sound. Effie was quicker though. She was on her feet when Mags came in.

Of course, he was still slumped on the armchair, his pants unzipped and with a telling bulge he was quick to cover… Of course, Effie’s shirt was untucked, her bra not quite properly adjusted and a brand new hickey was very visible on her neck… Of course, they both looked disheveled and flushed and above all _guilty_.

Mags looked at them both, lips pursed in disappointment. “Well. Since you both feel so energetic… Haymitch, I think you should hit _the gym_ and work on your flexibility. As for you, Effie, you can work _here_ on your triple loot. It’s sloppy of late.”

They exchanged a quick look but they didn’t protest – protesting would make the punishment worse.

He still briefly placed a hand at the small of her back on his way out of the rink and leaned close enough that he could whisper in her ear without Mags hearing it.

“Later.”

That was a promise he intended to keep.

 

**Author's Note:**

> Tell me what you think! If you liked it, if I should get help because I'm obsessed... Tell me!


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